


everything has a beginning (but we fear the end)

by teenytabris



Series: hold onto me (i'm a little unsteady) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers (2012) AU, Becca Barnes - Freeform, Becca is sick like pre-serum Steve, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Lost An Arm, Bucky was in Afganistan, Bucky wasn't in the 40's, Deaf Clint Barton, Everyone has some form of ptsd, Gay Bucky Barnes, Love at First Sight, M/M, Steve Agrees, Steve relates, What If Steve Saved Bucky and his Sister during Avengers (2012), this is purely self-indulgent Bucky Was Always A Badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-02-27 04:57:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 96,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18732049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenytabris/pseuds/teenytabris
Summary: Steve started at a primal yell from one of the rooms, and then straightened at the sound of a pained Chitauri.“Bucky! Bring it closer!” Shouted a voice, and Steve took off, searching through open doors until he got to one that contained a Chitauri, and two civilians.The one who had his back to Steve was a man with short brown hair and only one arm, was taking on the alien and winning. The other human had the same shade of brown hair, but was long and lank, her body reminded Steve greatly of what his had looked like before the serum, but her grey eyes were steely, and her mouth set in determination. She was holding defibrillator paddles in her hands. The man (Bucky?) landed a kick to the Chitauri's knee, bringing it within range of the woman, who let out a scream of triumph and and slammed the paddles against its head. The charge had clearly been set to the highest option and Steve grimaced slightly at the way the alien jerked against its will.The thing slumped to the ground, and Steve felt a surge of incredulous amazement that the two of them had brought down one with medical tools and sheer dumb luck.--A kind-of Shrunkyclunks AU where Bucky and Steve meet during the first Avengers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has not left me alone since I watched Endgame, and I had so many Stucky feelings and I didn't know what do with them! I also discovered Becca Barnes in a different fic and was like, well, I better write a version of her that I could play in a movie because sometimes you gotta be that self-centred (crying-laughing emoji)
> 
> I don't know if the rating will change, I haven't 100% decided on smut or no smut, but either way, this is going to be a big, gay love story, as well as one about found family, and I hope that you all will enjoy :)
> 
> this has not been beta'd.

Clunk.  
Slam.  
The thrill of electricity-

And then the Chitauri lay in broken piles around the super soldier and the god. Steve took the moment to breathe, rolling his shoulders back. Super soldier he may be, but human he definitely still was. There was a small amount of weariness to his muscles, and he had no clue how much longer they would have to fight.

“That all of them?” he asked Thor without looking at him, his gaze tracking one of the giant flying things.

“Seems to be for now. Are you well, Steve?” A heavy hand landed on Steve's shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. Not all of us can shake off hits like you,” he said with a half smile at Thor.

Thor nodded knowingly, clapping Steve's shoulder once more.

“Cap? Shakespeare? We got incoming two blocks away from you. I'm not not saying I need back up, but,” Tony said over comms.

“Acknowledged, Tony,” Steve said, then looked at Thor. “You'll get there quicker than me. Go.”

“I'll try to leave a few behind for you,” Thor replied with a warm smile, that turned even warmer at Steve's laugh. He swung Mjolnir, and was gone.

Steve took in a deep breath, adjusted the shield, and made his way down the street at a steady jog.

At least, that was the plan, until he could hear screams from the next corner.

He immediately tore into a full sprint, heart pounding. He made the turn a lot smoother than he had way back when he had first woken up in his new body and flung himself into a dress shop, and in front of him was a crowd of people, some in scrubs, looking up at the top floor of what looked like a private hospital.

“It's the Captain!” Someone screamed, and the crowd turned to Steve, most calling out in relief, some in terror.

“What's happened? Is anyone left inside?” Steve asked, slowing to a stop in front of the woman who called out his rank.

“We couldn't get up to the fourth floor! There's some patients up there, and-” She started, but was cut off by a security guard.

“The Barnes' are still up there!” She shouted, pointing at one window in particular. “His sister- she can barely function off the machines-”

“It's okay. I'll get them both out. For now, there's a police blockade four blocks down-” Steve pointed out where to go, and left the security guards to direct the civilians. He then steeled himself, and charged into the building.

The first three floors were nearly clear, he only had to pull a few terrified people from hiding places and get them downstairs, but the fourth floor was guarded by one Chitauri. Luckily, the alien didn't seem to be expecting a vibranium shield flying directly at it, and went down easily. Steve paused to grab his shield, then tore onto the main floor, where-

Three downed Chitauri? Maybe there was a guard left up here or-

Steve started at a primal yell from one of the rooms, and then straightened at the sound of a pained Chitauri.

“Bucky! Bring it closer!” Shouted a voice, and Steve took off, searching through open doors until he got to one that contained a Chitauri, and two civilians.

The one who had his back to Steve was a man with short brown hair and only one arm, was taking on the alien and winning. The other human had the same shade of brown hair, but was long and lank, her body reminded Steve greatly of what his had looked like before the serum, but her grey eyes were steely, and her mouth set in determination. She was holding defibrillator paddles in her hands. The man (Bucky?) landed a kick to the Chitauri's knee, bringing it within range of the woman, who let out a scream of triumph and and slammed the paddles against its head. The charge had clearly been set to the highest option and Steve grimaced slightly at the way the alien jerked against its will.

The thing slumped to the ground, and Steve felt a surge of incredulous amazement that the two of them had brought down one with medical tools and sheer dumb luck. Though, considering the three outside-

“Becca?” The man said, and that brought Steve back to the scene in front of him, just as the defibrillator went tumbling out of the woman's hands. The man ran to her as she dropped to her knees, prompting Steve to move into the room as well, worried, and feeling a very familiar sense of dread.

“Buck- b-Buck, I can't- I can't breathe,” she gasped out, her hands clinging to the man's wrist.

“Becca, it's okay, they're down, we- we can try for the front now-” the man was trying to be comforting, Steve could hear that, but he knew that what Becca was feeling couldn't be soothed with words.

“There an oxygen supply in here?” he asked, and two heads turned to look at him, which meant he finally got a look at the man's face. If the world wasn't falling apart, and Steve wasn't a soldier, he would've probably been floored but just how beautiful he was. Strong jaw, full lips, and grey-blue eyes that could've pieced him-

“Yeah- holy shit-” Becca was saying, one shaky hand coming up to point behind the bed. Steve turned his head forcefully away from the man, tore the mask off the wall and tossed it to the pair, the man catching it with Becca still clinging to his wrist.

Yeah, that was impressive as well. Maybe not as much as taking on four Chitauri and winning, but still.

Once the mask was over Becca's face, Steve hit the button on the wall, and watched with no small amount of relief as she took in a huge breath, the blue tinge to her lips beginning to fade. “Shit,” she said, with feeling.

The man laughed, pressing his forehead to hers. “You're fucking telling me.”

Steve gave them a moment, but he could still hear the other Avengers calling over the comms, and knew he had to get back in the fight, and soon.

“Listen, it's not safe here. We have to move,” he said to the two, using his Captain-Rogers-Is-Talking-Now voice the Commandos used to laugh at. It got their attention though, and the pair looked up at him.

“How wide spread is it?” The man asked. The tone he used, yeah, that sounded military.

“All over. Centred over Stark Tower,” Steve reported.

“Would be him,” Becca laughed, a little breathlessly. “Gotta be centre of attention.”

That made Steve laugh. “You don't know the half of it. But still stands. You can't stay here.”

“There anywhere safe?” The man asked, with eyes that knew that there really never was. Steve's breath caught in his throat a little. What he said to other civilians wasn't gonna fly with him.

“No. But there is a place more protected than here.”

“I think we're doing all right,” the man said, looking pointedly at the alien on the ground.

“Don't- fuck.” Becca wheezed, taking in another breath. “Don't listen to him, Captain Rogers. He's stubborn, and he's worried I wouldn't make it.”

“Because when we tried to take you off the machine, this happened,” the man argued, his hand untangling hers from his wrist so he could cup her head.

“Then go without me!”

“In what universe would that ever happen, Becca?” The man didn't sound angry, he sounded like it was the thirtieth time they'd had that argument. Steve could remember many hospital visits that ended like that, though in the man's place it was his mother.

There was a war to fight outside. There would be so many people like the two here that wouldn't be lucky enough to have someone to help. Two blocks away, Thor was still fighting. He'd lost track of where Clint and Tony were, and Banner.

“Rogers, where are you? We need you back in this!” Nat, over his comm. Steve sighed. He looked at Becca and the man. He made a decision.

“Gotta clear something up. I'll be back in it soon, Romanov.” To the two civilians. “Where do they keep portable oxygen?”

The man's eyes narrowed, but there was something more like confusion than suspicion in them. Becca looked up at him in shock, but that melted quickly to hope.

“Don't you have a war to fight, Captain?” She said with a sad half-smile.

“Steve,” he corrected quickly, then wondered why it mattered.

Becca's smile grew under the breath mask, “Rebecca. Becca. This is James,” she said, nudging the man with her foot. “My brother.”

James looked back up at Steve, and one corner of his lip tilted up. “Most people call me Bucky.”

Steve was incredibly glad, once again, for his training and his dedication, as otherwise he would have turned right back into the stumbling mess he'd always been in front of a pretty face. Especially one like that-

“Honour to meet you both. Portable oxygen?” Steve asked again.

Bucky explained quickly, gesturing with his one hand the direction to go in, and Steve took off. The room wasn't hard to find, and he simply kicked the door in, ignored the alarm, and gathered the objects he needed. He was back in front of the siblings in minutes. He handed everything over to Bucky, letting him swap Becca over, and only helping when he saw Bucky need a second hand. He did note the tense line in his jaw when he did so, and made a mental note to apologise when they weren't in danger.

Once Becca was breathing as easily as she could, Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist to hoist her up, while she held the oxygen tank. It seemed all right for one moment, and then Becca let out an anguished groan, her knees buckling underneath her. Bucky tried to keep her upright, abject terror on his face.

“Hurts-” Becca got out, her hand shaking around the tank.

“Where, Becs?” Bucky asked, clearly panicked.

“Fucking- everywhere, Bucks,” Becca said, with an impressive eye roll for someone in so much pain.

Steve didn't realise he had lurched forward, arms held out, until he abruptly came back to himself. He dropped his arms, thought for a split second, then slung his shield on his back. “Okay, I'm gonna carry her. If you don't mind, ma'am?” he said, going to Becca's other side.

“I don't- woah!” Steve swung her into his arms, and she scrabbled at his uniform, eyes wide. The oxygen tank rested in her lap. “Jesus-”

“Just Steve, ma'am,” Steve said, not able to help himself. He was rewarded with a tired but happy smile, and a slight chuckle from Bucky. Steve looked at him, and while he could see Bucky's reluctance, he could also see determination. Steve could understand. It must hurt, feeling like he couldn't help his sister. “You're gonna need to take the lead, Bucky,” he said, gesturing gently with Becca. Bucky smiled, a little tiredly.

“I survived Afghanistan, pretty sure these assholes don't have much on that,” he said grimly, then took the lead out of the room. Steve made sure Becca was comfortable in his arms, and followed him out.

“Heard that was nasty,” Steve commented once they were in the stairwell.

Bucky chuckled, grimly. “Yeah, we could've used a super soldier or two.”

“Sorry I missed it.”

Bucky turned back, and looked up at him, something almost desolate in his eyes. “No, no you'd done enough. Sorry you came back to this.”

Steve was so shocked he didn't realise he wasn't following after Bucky until Becca poked him. “You okay?”

Steve shook himself slightly, and kept moving. “Feel like I should be asking you that question,” he said to her, and got an eye roll.

“If you're actually asking me that, like genuinely? The answer is pretty much always 'no, I feel like shit'.” She shifted, and her eyes squeezed shut, as she gritted her teeth.

“Sorry, do you need me to-” Steve started but she shook her head.

“No, it's not you. My- my body doesn't work. Used to be hooked up to heaps of things to regulate shit, and I was on pills for whatever else. Not gonna be not in pain until I'm back on them.” Becca's hand on Steve's back tightened against the suit. Steve wondered if it was subconscious.

“You're not a burden on him,” Steve said, again without much input from the sensible part of his brain. Becca looked up at him, that same desolate note in her eyes her brother had.

“But-”

“You're not. Mum used to say the same thing to me. I was a skinny, sick thing, costing her more money than she could make in a year. But she wouldn't give up on me, and either will Bucky on you. Family sticks together, no matter what.”

Becca fell silent, and Steve made sure that his movements through the stairwell didn't jostle her too much. Bucky would look back occasionally, and once he made eye contact with Steve, mouthing 'thank you'. Steve nodded back. He had meant every word. He might not know them that well, and probably would never see either of them again, but he knew, in his soul, the struggle Becca felt every day. It might not be true for him anymore, and it might be past tense. But it still happened for him.

He wasn't about to give Becca false hope about any German scientists coming to save her, but he could assure her that her life was important. Was worth something. Especially to her brother.

The brother in question flung open the door to the ground floor, and after a quick check, nodded Steve out. Steve manoeuvred through, making sure nothing touched Becca, then let Bucky take the lead once more as they headed out of the building.

To Steve's surprise, some of the people from earlier were still there. “Becca! You're okay!” The security guard who had told him about the Barnes' (must be Becca and Bucky) ran forward, first grabbing Bucky's shoulder, then cupping Becca's face.

Becca laughed. “Lucy, what the hell are you doing in the street!” She was trying for scolding, but her voice still sounded so weak.

“I was waiting for you and James, of course. If the Captain hadn't turned up, I would've charged back in myself,” Lucy the guard said very seriously.

“I'm glad I was here then, ma'am. Not that James and Rebecca weren't doing a good job of holding them off,” Steve said, feeling the need to report that.

Lucy's mouth opened, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by a guttural shout. Steve turned to look at the end of the street, and felt rage build in his gut at the collection of Chitauri there. There was absolutely no way that Bucky and Becca survived all of that only to be shot down now. He would just have to put Becca somewhere safe and-

The Chitauri raised their guns to fire. “Run!” Steve yelled at the civilians, then turned his body to curl around Becca. He'd survived worse wounds-

He felt his shield being torn from his back, then heard the shots. He whipped his head around to look and saw-

Bucky. With Steve's shield, blocking Steve, Lucy and Becca from the shots. His mouth was set with determination, and he glared through the shield like he could see the aliens at the end, like his gaze alone could fell them. In that moment, Steve would've believed it.

“Go! Move!” Bucky yelled, and that was all the cue Steve needed. He herded the civilians back into the hospital, getting them to stay down, while Bucky moved in front of them, blocking the shots that would've killed them.

Steve lay Becca down gently next to Lucy. “Stay here. I'll come back for you when it's safe,” he said.

“Go get 'em, Rogers,” Becca said, giving him a hopeful grin.

Steve saluted, and charged back outside, where Bucky was pressed against the doorway, shield still raised.

“You look like you know what you're doing,” Steve commented, leaning out far enough to see the Chitauri's position, quickly pulling back behind Bucky when they took shots at him.

“Yeah, well, I read the comics, same as everyone,” Bucky said. He turned to look at Steve with that half-smile Steve was pretty sure was shutting his brain down. “Knew it was bulletproof.”

“Vibration absorbing, actually,” Steve replied, smiling back.

Bucky rolled his eyes as impressively as his sister. “Bulletproof is quicker to say.”

“They're not shooting bullets out there.”

“You always this argumentative mid-battle?”

“Well. Not with everyone,” Steve's mouth said, with no in put from his brain.

Bucky didn't say anything at that, but Steve had to convince himself that he wasn't imagining the way his eyes seemed to go soft as his smile reached the other side of his mouth.

“Nice to know that men you met half an hour ago are special,” Bucky said finally, looking away from Steve. He was still smiling and Steve was a goner.

However, the world didn't stop while Steve and Bucky talked, and the Chitauri certainly weren't backing down. There was another guttural shout, and Steve sighed.

“May I?” He asked, tapping the shield.

Bucky pulled a little bit further back into the doorway, and held out his arm. Steve slipped the shield off, his hand brushing Bucky's for a single moment (that felt like several hours and if Steve wasn't careful he may actually blush), and slid the shield back onto his own arm.

“Looks better on you,” Bucky commented, and Steve laughed, but very firmly kept his eyes on the shield.

“Get inside. I'll let you know when I've taken out the trash,” Steve said, raising the shield to head out onto the street.

“Yes sir,” Bucky said, and Steve had to shoot him a look at that. Bucky was grinning. “You out-rank me, I've gotta respect that.”

“Go,” Steve said, his stern tone not matched by his grin.

Bucky turned to head inside, and Steve went to move out, but then Bucky called out. “Steve?”

Steve turned.

“Be careful,” Bucky said, and- yeah. That look in his eyes went straight to Steve's head. Even so, he was still the same person he was before he went in the ice.

“Yes sir,” he said, with a cocky tilt of his head.

He ran out into the street before Bucky could reply, flinging his shield at the first Chitauri to notice him. The next was met with his fists, and then it was ducking and rolling to get the shield back, using it to smack another's head to the side. He could still feel that weariness from earlier, he could still hear his body needing a rest, but with those people so close to danger, there was no way that Steve Rogers would back down.

Then again, very little could make him back down.

Once the last Chitauri fell, and Steve retrieved his shield for the third time, he let himself just breathe, and cupped the new wound on his side gently, hissing. It would heal in a day, but right now it was gonna be an issue when he needed to move. Which he very much did, if he was gonna keep those people safe.

He turned around, schooled his face into Captain-America-The-Star-Spangled-Man, and headed back to the hospital, keeping his shield positioned over his side. No need to let them know he was still breakable. They needed a hero.

He didn't even have to open the door before Bucky threw it open. “You got hit.”

Well. Shit.

“It's fine. We gotta keep moving,” Steve said, trying to offer him a reassuring smile, but all he got back was an incredulous frown.

“They gone?” A nurse said, rising from her position on the floor. Steve nodded. “Then we can get to that subway you talked about.”

“That's your best option. I can take you there, but-” Steve's comm burst to life again.

“Steve, we need you. Now. Get to my co-ordinates,” Nat said, and she sounded terrifyingly calm.

“Right. On my way now,” Steve replied.

He dropped his hand to look at the civilians, his eyes lingering on Becca (grateful and assuring), then stopping on Bucky. He looked like he wanted to say something, but his mouth stayed closed. Steve, for some reason, understood that.

“You can get there without me?” He asked the group, but remained looking at Bucky.

“Yeah, I remember your directions from earlier. I can carry Becca,” Lucy said, and from the sounds of shuffling and Becca's gasp of pain, she did just that. The rest of the group seemed to stand, but Steve just looked at Bucky.

Bucky didn't look away for a long moment, then looked to Becca, and moved over to her. Steve wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved when that happened.

Steve turned to the group, telling himself he can process feelings later. “Good luck. All of you. Stay safe.”

“We can't thank you enough, Captain,” a nurse said. Steve nodded at her.

“Just take care of each other. It'll be over soon,” Steve assured her, and with a final look at Becca (she gave him a thumbs up) and Bucky (words in his eyes that Steve was almost afraid to see), he took off, sprinting towards the co-ordinates Nat gave him.

\--

Hours later, the call came over the radio. “They're gone! Hole shut down, aliens all dead!”

Around them, people were calling out in relief, joy, some even running up to hug the officers.

Bucky stayed down, arm around Becca.

She coughed, and sucked in another breath. “He did say it would be over soon.”

Bucky laughed. “Steve Rogers strike you as a man who doesn't keep promises?”

“He did strike as a Bucky Barnes fan,” she wheezed back.

“Becca, you're oxygen starved.”

“So?”

“You're probably delirious.”

“Not as delirious as Captain America, looking at Sergeant Barnes with-”

“Becca,” Bucky groaned, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. I'll stop,” Becca laughed, and then sucked in a huge breath. “Do you- do you think-”

“That I should get you to a hospital? Definitely,” Bucky said, and flagged down Lucy and Becca's usual nurse Talia. With their help, they got Becca upright, and Talia went to grab the nearest officer, to get them a lift. Becca's head flopped onto Bucky's shoulder, the rest of her in Lucy's arms. Bucky stroked her hair back from her forehead.

“I was gonna ask if you thought we would see him again,” Becca whispered, her eyelids already fluttering with the strain of keeping them open.

Bucky's heart gave a weird lurch at that, but he kept his voice light. “Becs. What are the chances that a literal superhero is going to check up on everyone he saved?”

“Not everyone.” Becca's voice was nearly indiscernible over the noise in the subway. “Just us.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead, but didn't have the heart to reply.

Because, really. Captain America's schedule being free enough to visit them? What would be the chances?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again this is unbeta'd, I probably will go back at some point and edit, but right now I am just working on getting this entire thing out!  
> Becca was supposed to make a return this chapter, but Nat and Clint would not shut up, and then neither would Bucky and Steve so that will be chapter 3!  
> Also...Stony. Why? How? 
> 
> I promise this is a Stucky fic. I PROMISE.

Steve slouched back into the hanger of Stark Tower, reaching to his back to unzip the top half of his suit, tugging it off his arms and pushing it down to his waist. The heat of the day, the constant work, and the fact that he'd ran a little hotter ever since the serum were all conspiring to make him almost nostalgic for mountains he'd once scaled with the Commandos. Almost.

He grabbed a bottle of water, took a few sips, then sighed and dumped the rest of it over his head, shaking it out of his eyes. It didn't do much to cool him down, but that was enough.

“Oooh, wet t-shirt contest?” Tony Stark said behind him, and Steve let out a huff of laughter, looking back to watch the man step out of the Iron Man suit. Tony had an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. “You do have a couple of unfair advantages over me there, Rogers.”

“Only a couple, Stark?” Steve shot back, turning to face him fully.

“Yeah, the whole body-of-a-god thing, plus, you know,” Tony said, tapping the glowing light on his chest. “Can't get that wet.”

Steve laughed properly at that. “Tony Stark, not making the device that powers his heart waterproof?”

“Well. We can't all be perfect, Rogers,” Tony said, winking. He started walking towards the elevator, already tapping away on his phone.

To think, a couple of weeks ago, Steve had been ready to throw him out of the nearest window. And considering that Tony had saved them all, guilt curled uncomfortably in his gut. Steve was a scrappy fighter, and stubborn to boot, but he could admit when he was wrong.

“Hey. Tony.” Tony stopped moving, and looked back at Steve with a raised eyebrow. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I-” Steve started, but Tony held up a hand, a smile on his face that looked dangerously generous.

“Water under the bridge, Steve. Just, you know, not on the reactor,” Tony said, giving him a lazy salute. Steve sent him one right back, and Tony was gone, probably to check in on Banner upstairs. Steve turned back to grab another bottle of water, downing this one.

“Good idea,” Nat said as she walked up to Steve, following his lead and pushing her all-black suit off her arms and down to her waist. Steve held out a bottle of water to her, and she took it, offering up a small smile in thanks. “Why did we let Tony rope us into clean-up?”

“He didn't have to rope me in, Nat,” Steve said, and received a groan from her, and from Barton, who wasn't far behind her.

“That's because you're the only good person here, Steve,” Nat said, sounding a little disgusted.

“Oh, I dunno. I do seem to remember someone heroically throwing themselves at Chitauri for the small chance that she could close the portal,” Steve said nudging her.  
Nat ducked her head for a minute, a small smile on her lips that was gone quick enough for Steve to pretend he hadn't seen it. “Yeah, well. You were no where to be found.”

“Where were you, in fact, Cap?” Barton said, leaning against a wall with his head cocked. Looks can be deceiving, and while Barton may look and sound like he hadn't really grown up from fourteen, he was still a trained spy and assassin. That look he was giving Steve was both friendly and calculating.

“Helping out. Trapped civilians, you know,” Steve said easily, though he knew they would both see what he was leaving out.

“You're a terrible liar,” Nat said, with her trademark side-smile.

“Not a lie.”

“Half-truth, though,” Barton pointed out.

Steve shot him a look. “I told you what you needed to know. I came back, didn't I?”

“Yes, and you've had the funniest look in your eye since. If I didn't know you better I'd say you were longing,” Nat said, moving to stand in front of Steve. Steve fought the urge to stand at his full height.

“You don't actually know me that well, Romanov,” he pointed out.

“Not true. I have your whole file,” Nat said, tilting her head.

“So you know my record. Not me,” Steve said, tilting his head right back.

Nat's smile was all together too pleased. “Point taken.” Steve took that to mean conversation over, and went to grab a third bottle of water. “Saint Lucia's Hospital wasn't anywhere in your file though.” Steve fumbled with the bottle, hands jolting in shock, and it tumbled to the ground, saved from actually hitting it by Nat's quick reflexes. She handed it back to him, that knowing smirk on her face, and Steve turned a tired old man look at her.

“What, you stalking me? Bugging me now?” He asked, dumping the water bottle back on the table in favour of crossing his arms over his chest.

“No. I was standing next to you, when you asked Maria Hill about it.”

Steve paused, mouth open, then shut it. “Oh.”

Nat smiled, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Greatest tactical mind of the Second World War.”

“Undone by concern,” Barton finished, pushing off the wall to come and stand next to Nat, wearing a twin grin.

Steve sighed, looking skyward. Why were the only friends he'd made this century two spies, with memories like steel traps?

Barton coughed, and Steve looked back down at them, then frowned at how they both seemed to be looking at him with some concern. “You don't have to tell us, Steve,” Barton said. Nat nodded in agreement.

“Then why the needling?” Steve asked, relaxing his arms to rest his hands on the table he was leaning on.

“It's not needling. It's teasing,” Nat said gently.

“Needling is teasing, Nat,” Barton said, bumping her hip with his.

“Okay, fine. We're needling. But you don't wanna say anything, we'll respect that. We're not Shield agents right now. Or Avengers. We're just friends of Steve Rogers,” Nat said, resting a friendly hand on Steve's bicep.

“Who are super curious,” Barton added, but there was a quirk to his lips that implied he was teasing.

Steve nodded, smiling gently at Nat. She pulled back, crossed her arms, and tilted her head again. Steve knew he didn't have to say anything. He knew that they would respect him either way, they'd even said as much. But, he was finding that he did, actually, want to tell someone about the incredibly brave Barnes' siblings.

So he shifted slightly, getting more comfortable, took in a breath, and nodded once. “There were civilians trapped. But most of the patients and doctors had gotten out already. They saw me coming and told me there were a few still inside, so I went up. I got to the fourth floor, and there were Chitauri there. I took one out, and charged into the main floor, expecting a real fight-” Barton sucked in a breath at that, eyes wide. Apparently Steve was a better story teller than he thought. “-but all there was were three bodies. Chitauri bodies.”

“Who took them out!?” Barton jumped in, but shut his mouth when Nat elbowed his stomach. Steve chuckled.

“I'm getting there, Barton. As I was saying, three dead Chitauri, no guards around, nothing. Then I hear shouts, sounds of a fight. I run to the room they're coming from and inside was two civilians, man and woman, taking one on. The man gets the alien close to the woman, and she kills it with a defibrillator.”

“Holy shit,” Barton and Nat said as one, and Steve nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. You wanna know something even better? The man only had one arm,” Steve said, recalling the awe he felt at watching Bucky fight something taller and stronger than him, let alone one with three more arms than him.

“And he was winning?” Nat said, genuinely impressed.

“He won,” Steve said, not hiding his pride. Like he had a right to be proud, he barely knew either of them.

“Holy shit,” Barton repeated, emphatically.

“Why're you asking after them? It sounds like Shield should be begging them to join,” Nat asked.

Steve cast his eyes down for a moment. “The woman, Becca. She looked like...me.”

There was a glint in Nat's eyes that said she got what he meant. “What, totally ripped?” Barton asked with a raised brow.

“Before serum, Clint,” Nat said softly.

“Oh. Did she not look well when you left?” Barton said, gentler.

“They weren't getting out of there, not together. I helped,” Steve said, summing things up as plainly as he could so that he wouldn't have to go into the shock of memories returning as he watched Becca gasp for breath.

“So did Maria know anything?” Nat asked, her tone as gentle as Barton's.

“She said she'd look into it, but there's a lot going on right now. A lot of people didn't make it home. Lot of collateral damage,” Steve pointed out.

“So you go yourself?” Barton pointed out.

Both Nat and Steve stared at him for a moment, and Steve was almost sure that he and Nat were on the same page, until she turned back to him. “Yeah, why don't you?”

Steve gave them an incredulous look, and then pointed at himself. “Not exactly going to go unnoticed, am I?”

“Just don't wear the uniform, then,” Barton said, half-laughing.

“I mean- Jesus. Is it a good idea for any of us to be roaming the streets right now? Even out of uniform?”

“Clint and I have. Lots of times,” Nat said.

“You are spies, no one knows your faces,” Steve said, exasperated.

“Casual clothes, cap, sunglasses, you'll look like every other gym junkie from Brooklyn,” Barton offered.

Steve could feel himself beginning to lose this argument, so he switched tack. “What about clean-up? You think I got time to be roaming the streets when there's things that need doing?”

“Life's gotta restart at some point, Steve. Why not today?” Nat said. Steve looked at her, feeling those words take root deeper than the others. That, at least, seemed to hit home.

“Come on, Steve. World's not ending today. We may even get tomorrow if we're lucky. Why not go see 'em? Worst case scenario, they thank you for helping and you never see them again,” Barton said, and then when Nat glared at him, he raised his arms in surrender.

That, was actually comforting. Steve's mind had been occupied with skinny, sick, brave Becca and her fierce, beautiful brother for the better part of the last week, and even if they only offered thanks, at least that would be closure. He hadn't gotten that before.

Nat was hissing an argument at Barton, who seemed mostly befuddled rather than chided, but she stopped at Steve's chuckle. “Nat, it's okay. He's got a point. And I think I will.”

Steve stood up from the table, rolling his shoulders back. “You think a cap and sunglasses will be enough?”

“You'd be surprised. Truly. People can be remarkably unobservant,” Nat said, trademark smile back on her face.

Steve grabbed her shoulder, squeezing it in thanks, and headed to the elevator, Nat and Barton falling into step beside him. “And remind me, Nat, to ask Tony to do something about these suits.”

Nat groaned in agreement. “There has to be something he can do!”

“They don't breathe for shit!” Steve said emphatically.

“Or you guys could just go sleeveless?” Barton added, flexing for emphasis. “Works for me.”

Nat taps the many scars decorating his biceps. “Yeah. Working real well there, buddy.”

They stepped into the elevator, bickering good naturedly, Steve stepping in to referee, the smile on his face feeling hopeful.

\--

Bucky tried again to take a sip of his coffee, and hissed through his teeth when it burned his tongue again. God, he was never gonna learn not to order it extra hot, was he? He rolled his tongue in his mouth, trying in vain to soothe the sting, but eventually gave up and resigned himself to suffer. He couldn't even take the water out of his pocket to cool it without setting the coffee down, and at this point, the hospital was so close it could wait.

It was incredible, really, Bucky thought. He walked through the city, and while there was evidence of the attack here and there, especially around Stark Tower, for the most part, life seemed to go on as normal. Like alien attacks were just another Tuesday. Maybe that was just New York, weathering disasters, the people determined to not let it change them.

Bucky supposed he was like that. Or maybe, truthfully, he had been like that. Before Afghanistan, before the pain in his arm became a phantom limb, before Becca's first collapse. He let his life go on as normal, put on the same uncaring facade, but inside-

Inside, he sometimes wondered how other people couldn't hear the screaming.

He shook his head, making mental note #14 to ring his psych, ring the VA, and took another sip of his coffee, this time only wincing. Really, hot coffee? On a day like this? He could practically feel his temperature sky rocket.

As he got closer to the hospital, he could see Lucy at the door, and once he caught her eye, he awkwardly waved with his coffee cup. She enthusiastically waved back. “Hey Luce!” He said once he was close enough.

“Hey James. How're you feeling?” Lucy didn't have an uncaring bone in her body, and it always warmed Bucky.

“Good. How's she feeling?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “She managed to drag poor Dr. Balakrishnan into hearing the Captain America story this time. Like we haven't all heard it and lived it.” Lucy didn't sound put out one bit.

Bucky laughed. “I pity him if we ever see him again. I think he's gained a super fan.”

Lucy raised one eyebrow at him. “Just the one?” Her tone was a little too knowing.

Bucky gave her a glare with no heat, his smile dampening it. “Maybe. Don't tell anyone, I have a terrifying reputation to keep.”

Lucy softened at that. “It was incredible, what you did. What you both did. I just wish you hadn't had to.”

Bucky didn't know what to say to that. They weren't the only place to get hit by the Chitauri, as the news had called them, and he and Becca just got incredibly lucky.

Lucy drew him into a hug, quick but warm, and when she drew back, patted his face. “Never mind me. Go on in and see her, maybe distract her for a bit? So the rest of us can get some work done.”

Bucky laughed, and saluted her with his coffee cup. “I'll do my best, but you know Becca. No promises.”

He left Lucy chuckling at the door, and pushed his way inside, heading for reception. A tall, well-built man was already there, and Bucky noted he was rather well covered up, considering the heat of the day. Bucky had had to roll the sleeve of his jacket up so that it wouldn't roll down his arm on the walk here, and he only had to deal with one arm. The man was wearing an actual brown leather jacket. He had to be sweating.

Bucky was content to sip his coffee and wait his turn, until he heard a familiar voice. “Uh, Becca? Rebecca Barnes. I think. I was here a week ago, I just wanted to see how she was doing.”

Bucky frowned. Yeah, he knew that voice. Where did he know it from?

“I'm sorry, sir, but I can't give out confidential patient information. In addition, she does have a visitor list currently. Unless you were put on it, I can't tell you anything,” The receptionist, Keshini, said, kindly turning him down, but Bucky had gone past wondering where he knew the voice from, and had arrived at who the hell was asking about his sister? He moved to stand next to the guy, suspicion and anger building, until he caught sight of the man from the side and-

He knew that jaw.

“Steve?” He asked, incredulously, and Steve whirled around to face him, face breaking out into a huge grin.

“Bucky! Hey!” He said, sliding aviator sunglasses off his nose and shoving them in his pocket, and-

Yeah. Wow. Those eyes have not lost a single bit of their effect.

“What're you doing here?” Bucky asked, somewhat in shock.

Steve's smile dimmed a bit, and he gestured awkwardly at the reception desk. “I- uh- I was hoping to see how you both were. That you got out okay. Is that all right? I can go if you'd rather.” There was something defeated in him and Bucky mentally kicked himself. Captain America has come back to see you, at least act pleased to see him!

“No! No, Becca would love to see you. I- I guess I just thought you'd be doing your hero thing for a while longer,” Bucky said. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Steve's smile brightened again.

“Yeah, well. Apparently I was distracted.”

Don't overthink that, Bucky. Do not overthink that, Bucky. Do. Not. Over. Think. That. Bucky.

“Then I'm glad you're taking a break. Can't have you slacking off now,” Bucky said, smirking.

“Uhhh, James? You know him?” Keshini said, and the strange bubble that had descended over him and Steve popped. Bucky turned to look at her, while Steve tucked his hands into his jacket and tried to look less like a superhero. Which was, really, kind of adorable.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, he's a-” Bucky looked at Steve. “-friend.” Was he imagining the pleased curl of Steve's lips?

“Okay. You wanna give him access?” Keshini clicked on a couple of things, but managed to still be looking at Bucky.

“Yeah. Steve Ro-”

“Grant. Steve Grant,” Steve said quickly, and when Bucky turned back to look at him questioningly, Steve winked. Bucky held in a laugh.

“Steve Grant,” he confirmed for Keshini, who typed away for a few seconds.

“Okay, Steve. You're on the list. When you come to visit, you have to check in and check out.” Steve nodded at this, and once Keshini was looking back at her screen, Bucky knocked their elbows together to gesture off to the side. Steve followed him over.

“You really taking a break to come and see us?” Bucky asked, not able to stop wondering if there was a deeper reason.

Steve, to his absolute shock, blushed. Steve Rogers. Captain America. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, blushing.

“That's pretty much the extent of it,” Steve said, meeting Bucky's eyes.

That was enough that Bucky didn't really have a reason to speak for a good few moments, at least until Steve coughed awkwardly and looked away, cheeks still stained pink. God, that was pretty. Don't say that out loud.

“Well. I'm flattered, really. Didn't know we made an impression like that on you,” Bucky said, taking a sip of coffee so that he wouldn't say anything else.

Steve had an incredulous look on his face when he turned back. “You and Becca took down a Chitauri with one arm and a defibrillator. Not to mention the three in the hall, which you have to tell me how did that. How could I not be impressed?”

Bucky's turn to blush and look away apparently. “High praise from Captain America,” he said quietly.

“Not really here as the Captain, right now. I hope that's okay,” Steve's voice was quiet to match his.

Bucky looked up, letting one side of his mouth smile. “I think Steve is more than okay,” he said.

Steve laughed. His smile was beautiful. Bucky thought he'd outgrown butterflies in stomach around the same time he joined the Army, but maybe he just hadn't met Steve yet. God, that was stupid and juvenile. Two years ago Steve Rogers was dead. Don't be a child, Bucky.

And yet, he still felt warmed when Steve's arm brushed his own.

“Can I get you a coffee? Before we head up?” Steve asked.

Bucky raised one eyebrow.

Steve's smile dimmed, and he pulled back from Bucky a little. “Was that too forward? I'm still figuring things out, back then was really different and I-” His somewhat panicked rambling cut off as Bucky raised his arm, showing him the coffee he was still drinking.

Steve's mouth dropped open, he closed it, grimaced, and then laughed. Genuinely, thank god, because otherwise Bucky would have to try and deal with the implication of Steve's words. Was he really trying to ask Bucky out? Because that- Yeah, that was not a thing that would happen. Like ever. People like Steve didn't like people like Bucky.

“Bit hard to hold two cups of coffee for me,” Bucky joked.

“I can't imagine having them balanced makes either of them easy to drink,” Steve said somewhat drily, though he was smiling.

“I'm not much of a juggler when it comes to hot liquid, no,” Bucky remarked, nudging Steve so they could start towards the elevators.

“Implying that you can juggle,” Steve said.

“I am a man of many skills, juggling being none of them.”

“Dreams crushed, Bucky.”

“Can you juggle?”

“No. I'm pretty good at frisbee, though.”

“Yeah, we all know.”

The elevator dinged, and they both got on, and if Steve accidentally or purposefully gently touched Bucky's elbow to guide him on, Bucky wasn't complaining.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter than usual, only because this was going to be the end of chapter 2, before it got long enough to be a chapter on its own. We get to meet Becca at her best this time!
> 
> have I ever mentioned that I would die for the found family trope? because I would.

Bucky got Steve to wait just outside the door, and Steve's cheeky smile when he realised why was so endearing. Yeah, maybe Bucky had a small crush, but who didn't on Captain America?

Becca's door was slightly open, so all it took was a bump from his hip to open it, revealing his sister curled on her side, phone in hand, and wearing-

“Is that my sweater?” Bucky asked, dropping his empty cup in the trash before going to Becca and poking her shoulder. Becca's grin was unrepentant.

“It looks better on me,” she said, baring her teeth at him.

Bucky's deep red sweater was about ten sizes too big for her, and made her gauntness stand out. If it wasn't for the colour in her cheeks and the light in her eyes, she'd look exactly as sick as she was.

Bucky smiled softly, and bent to kiss her forehead. “Absolutely. Red is your colour.”

Becca narrowed her eyes at him, still smiling, and dropped her phone on the bedside table. “You're later than usual today. Please tell me you somehow picked up last night.”

“Becca,” Bucky groaned, giving her his best tired look. She shrugged.

“What? It's a crime to hope that my brother has a social life?”

“I'm late because I got coffee.”

“Oh. Yawn.” Becca rolled onto her back, revealing her left arm. The sleeve of Bucky's jumper was pushed up to her elbow to allow for the ever-present needles. Bucky kept his expression the same, used to hiding the way the sight pained his heart. He's had twelve years to get used to it, after all.

“Did you get me any?” Becca asked, bringing Bucky back to the present, and he made a big affected groan of realisation.

“I knew I'd forgotten someone,” he said, shrugging. “I'll getcha next time.”

“You're the worst. I'm taking you off the list,” Becca grumped, kicking him gently. They both knew that she wasn't allowed it. Her diet shrunk every year that she was in here. Stimulants of any kind hadn't been allowed for years.

Bucky didn't want to think about that.

“Speaking of the list, I just added someone to it,” Bucky said, grinning slyly as he sat on the bed.

Becca narrowed her eyes at him. “What spiteful cousin have you inflicted on me?”

“I'm pretty sure we're not related,” Steve said, walking into the door way. Bucky laughed silently at his cocky smile. “I can check if you like.”

Becca gasped so loudly Bucky was concerned she'd have a coughing fit. “Oh my god. Oh. My god,” she said, eyes huge.

Steve waved, the warmest smile on his face. “How're you feeling, Becca?”

Becca didn't answer him. She chose, instead, to thump Bucky's ribs. “What was that for?” He whined, rubbing the spot.

“I told you so. I fucking told you so!” She crowed.

“No, you didn't tell me anything, you asked me if I thought he'd come visit.”

“And he did, so, I asked you so!” Becca finished with a very pleased grin, and then her eyes fell on Steve, who had nervously tucked his hands back in his pockets, and her eyes went wide again.

“Holy shit, you're here,” she said.

Steve laughed, ducking his head. “That I am.”

“Like, here. Actually. In person,” Becca continued.

Steve nodded seriously. “In the flesh, even.”

“Becca, are you having an aneurysm?” Bucky cut in.

“God, that would cap it all of wouldn't it?” Becca said, falling back against her pillows. She then snorted, and pointed at Steve. “Haha. Cap.”

Bucky turned an apologetic look at Steve. “I'm so sorry, I would say she's usually better behaved, but then I'd be lying.”

Steve laughed. “And we can't have that.”

“I'll behave when I can get out of this bed without dying,” Becca declared.

“Now there's a threat,” Bucky said, grabbing Becca's foot over the covers. She pretended for a moment to struggle to get away, but her toothy grin was a bit of a giveaway. Bucky could almost forget that she was in hospital with organs that don't want to work, and that they were kids again.

Becca tapped his left shoulder, bringing him back again (he was drifting off a lot today). He raised an eyebrow at her. “We're being rude,” she said, with an affected grimace.

Bucky sucked in air through his teeth, and turned back to Steve, who looked more amused than anything else. “We are. She started it though-”

“Hey!”

“Come in, Steve. I mean, if you still want to, considering her atrocious behaviour.”

“I resent that!”

Steve laughed, and entered the room, pulling up one of the chairs closest to the bed. “It's actually a relief to see her so lively,” he said, honestly, and Bucky could feel his breath catch in his throat. He was going to need oxygen in a moment.

Luckily, Becca seemed to be just as affected, with a bright blush on her cheeks. “Thanks, for that,” she said, her chin tucked into her chest, like she was trying to hide her smile.

“There's no need. You two seemed to have it handled,” Steve said, again with that sureness in his tone. Bucky could absolutely understand why anyone would follow him into the jaws of death. If he'd asked just now, Bucky was almost sure he would jump at the chance.

“Still. Appreciated. You had a whole city of danger and you stopped for us,” Becca said, and Bucky was glad that she was able to verbalise his feelings too.

“It helps, sometimes, seeing the smaller picture. It makes things more real. Because, god knows, things have seemed pretty unreal for a long time now,” Steve said. His eyes seemed distant.

“Still getting used to things here and now?” Becca asked.

Steve nodded. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a small notebook and a pencil. “I've been keeping a list. Things that people have recommended I look into. Movies, events, that kind of thing.”

“Have you had a chance to get started on it yet?” Becca asked.

Steve shook his head. “I came out of the ice and...well. Things started happening.”

“Things like alien invasions,” Bucky said. Steve looked up at him and Bucky had to swallow so he wouldn't gasp at the blue of his eyes.

“Things like alien invasions,” Steve agreed, smiling softly.

“But that, that just happened. What else happened?” Becca was frowning, and Bucky had to admit she had a point.

Steve licked his lower lip (goddamn it, Bucky, hold it together), and shrugged. “Well, I only woke up a year ago.”

Bucky's eyes widened and he could almost feel Becca's doing the same. When they said nothing, Steve laughed awkwardly, fidgeting with the notebook.

“Sorry, I, uh- I came here to see how you both were, I didn't mean to-” he started, but Becca was quick to cut him off.

“We're both fine, 100% great, you really have only been up for a year?” She asked, struggling to sit up. Bucky was quick to grab the remote for the bed and raise the mattress. “Thanks, Buck. Really though? And you've been stuck at some base, no doubt, the entire time?”

Steve made a gesture that seemed to say 'pretty much', and Bucky felt sad for him. He wakes up in a time that's not his own, and then gets isolated?

“Sounds lonely,” he said, before he could think about it.

Steve's eyes seem to pierce right through him when they met Bucky's, and Bucky realised he'd been almost speaking from experience.

“Show me the list!” Becca broke the tense moment between them, her hand outstretched to Steve. He handed the notebook over, and continued to fiddle with the pencil. “You know, phones have note apps now. Like you could just put this all on your phone,” she pointed out.

“True, but this feels a little more real to me,” Steve said. “Plus, the satisfaction of putting a cross through something can't be beat.”

“Real paper books versus digital,” Bucky said, nodding.

Steve smiled. “Home cooked meals versus those frozen things.”

“Live music over recorded.”

“You know anywhere that still does swing?” Steve asked, and the nostalgia in his eyes seemed to lift a little.

Bucky smiled. “I'm sure there's one around. I'll look into it.”

“Okay, well, a lot of this is just googling and Wikipedia, so you can do that in your own time,” Becca said, still studying the list. Her voice helped Bucky to centre himself again. Steve needed to carry around a sign, warning people they may get lost in his eyes.

“Right. The internet. Wish we had that seventy years ago,” Steve laughed.

“You need help in wrangling it?” Becca asked, eyebrow raised.

“It's different to what I'm used to, definitely, but I'm actually pretty quick to learn things,” Steve said.

Becca's face fell, and she grimaced a little. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply...”

Steve's eyes flew open in shock. “No, no! I didn't take it that way, sorry, I was-”

“Because I would never think that, I mean, we studied you in high school, well, mine was online, but-”

“I'm a part of school curriculum?” Steve's concern changed rapidly to shock, and Bucky had to laugh.

“Okay, a, you're both clearly wonderful communicators-” Bucky began.

“Like you can talk,” Becca muttered.

“-and b, yes, Steve, we study you in high school. As a part of World War 2 history. You really think your impact wouldn't be remembered?” The last part of his sentence was gentler than the rest, and Bucky's small crush aside, he felt for Steve. Especially as a fellow soldier.

Steve shrugged again. “I guess- I guess I hadn't considered that.”

It looked like he had more to say about it, but couldn't say it. Bucky didn't push. He empathised.

“I know you're smart. Everyone does. Greatest tactical mind of the Second World War,” Becca said quietly.

Steve, surprisingly, laughed. “That's not even the first time I've heard that today. Though, the earlier time was meant as an insult.”

“I hope you had certain words for that person,” Becca said, narrowing her eyes.

Steve waved an airy hand. “Friends tease.”

Becca's eyes lit up. “Friends? Like Avengers friends?”

Steve tapped his nose, winking.

“No, Becca,” Bucky said, before she could even open her mouth.

She turned mock-anguished eyes at him. “But-”

“What, Captain America not enough for you?” Bucky teased, grabbing her foot again.

She turned a withering look on him, and he grinning brightly in response.

“Okay. Fine. About this list, the movies, who recommended you Star Wars?” Becca asked.

Steve frowned, thinking. “I think it was a Shield agent. Or maybe Barton.”

“Okay, well, whoever they are, they're wrong. You want real sci-fi action? 2001: A Space Odyssey. Or Alien.”

“They're horror films, clearly Star Wars is the better option,” Bucky pointed out.

“No way! Suspense, terror, plus, space itself is terrifying.”

“Really? That's better? Over the scrappy Rebels fighting against the evil Empire? Much like, I don't know, a collection of heroes going up against the Nazis who would destroy freedom as we know it?” Bucky said, smiling sweetly at Becca.

Becca gave him a hard stare, then sighed, and looked over at Steve. “You'd probably like Star Wars,” she muttered bitterly.

Steve nodded seriously, but when he looked at Bucky, his eyes sparkled with mirth that had Bucky letting out a chuckle.

“A lot of the list seems to be getting to know New York. You live here now?” She asked.

Steve nodded. “I don't really have anywhere else to go right now. Figured I'd try and get a place in Brooklyn.”

Becca elbowed Bucky without taking her eyes off Steve. “We're from Brooklyn!”

Steve lit up at that. “Seriously?”

Becca nodded vigorously. “Yeah! Grew up there. Bucky still has the apartment.”

“Yeah, I stop in to shower in between being here,” Bucky added, squeezing Becca's foot.

“Yeah, exactly, my point being, you can show Steve around Brooklyn circa 2012?”

Bucky looked to Steve. “Does that sound like something you'd wanna do?” Bucky's concern was that it might remind Steve more of what he lost, the life he really never got to live.

Steve, apparently, was set on surprising him. “Definitely. I've been at Shield HQ or Stark Tower for the past year. I'd like to see how my old haunts have changed.”

“You had haunts?” Becca asked.

“Yeah, mostly alleys in which I got beat,” Steve laughed.

“I'll try and keep the tour to the main streets then,” Bucky said, his smile widening when Steve's did.

Becca tapped away on her phone while Bucky tried very hard not to sink ever deeper into that exact shade of blue, and made a little 'meep!' of excitement. “Netflix has the original trilogy!” She said, reaching for her TV remote and PlayStation control, switching both on.

Steve frowned, and mouthed 'Netflix?', mostly to himself it seems.

“Uses the internet to show movies. Like a theatre in your own home,” Bucky explained, his heart breaking a little bit.

Steve nodded. “Internet. So helpful.”

He watched with some curiosity as Becca went through her PlayStation menu to open Netflix, flipping through until she found A New Hope. Bucky frowned as Steve sat up straighter, and something passed over his face that Bucky was not a fan of.

“Oh, you don't have to. I'm sure you've got other things you have to do,” Steve said, and his voice sounded weirdly professional. Like he was doing Captain Rogers, not Steve from Brooklyn.

“Believe me, we really don't,” Becca said, laughing.

“You need to go do something?” Bucky asked, and Becca quietened beside him, turning to look at Steve too.

Steve ducked his head, nodding to himself, and then looked back up. “I really only meant to come by and see how you both were. I'm glad you're well, especially you, Becca, but if you'd rather me go-”

“Hell no,” Bucky said, the force of the words surprising himself, Becca and Steve.

“Yeah, seconded,” Becca said, nodding. “Unless you have something you need to be doing?”

“I mean, technically,” Steve said, fidgeting with the pencil again.

“You said earlier you were taking a break. Keep taking it,” Bucky said.

“I really don't mind if you'd rather I go,” Steve insisted.

“I don't know where you got the idea that we'd ever kick Captain America out,” Becca said.

“Or Steve Rogers. Sorry, I mean, Steve Grant,” Bucky added.

Steve looked up at them both, and something in him softened. He took his phone out of his pocket, and flicked it to silent.

“Yeah. I got nothing urgent on,” he said, his smile breathtakingly soft and genuine.

“Bring the chair closer, Steve!” Becca ordered, then punched Bucky.

“Ow!” Bucky glared at her. She glared right back.

“Left or right?” She asked. Bucky immediately went to move over her, to lie on her right side, then realised that that would put her between him and Steve. Not that that was a problem, per se, but he would like to-

What? What are you going to do with the super soldier with eyes you can drown in and a smile that could probably bring world peace?

Becca went to move over, clearly sensing what Bucky was thinking (troubling), but she let out a little pained gasp that even had Steve half-getting out of his chair, face furrowed in worry.

“Becs, don't,” Bucky said, climbing awkwardly over her to lie on her right side, reaching over his stomach to take her hand.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don't be. We gotta keep you intact, remember?” Bucky said. She let out a huff of laughter.

Steve settled his chair as close to the bed as he could, and Becca cued up the movie. Bucky settled back, sparing Steve one last glace, grinning as Steve leaned in, enraptured by the opening title crawl.

\--

Once Luke Skywalker and his friends escaped the Death Star, Steve took a glance to his right, and noticed Becca had dropped her head onto Bucky's left shoulder and fallen asleep. She looked peaceful, her brow smoothed out. Steve smiled at that, glad that she had a small escape from pain.

He moved his gaze up to Bucky, and his breath became a little shaky when he saw him looking right back at him.

Were his eyes more grey than blue? Steve would probably never know, and at that moment he didn't care. They held his attention either way.

“Not your thing?” Bucky whispered. Steve was confused for a moment, how could Bucky not be Steve's thing?

And then he realised Bucky probably meant the movie.

“No, I mean, it is. Just wanted to see how Becca was doing,” Steve whispered back, turning his attention back to the screen. He didn't miss the small pleased exhale from Bucky, though, and his heart thumped in his chest.

Once the movie was over, and the credits were rolling, Steve looked back over to Bucky. Their eyes met again, and for a few long moments, neither of them said anything. There was something like a shift in the air, and Steve wasn't sure from where or what to do with it, but he knew that it was something that mattered. Whatever it was.

“So, what happens next?” Steve asked, not meaning the movie at all.

“I guess we'll find out,” Bucky answered, and grabbed the controller to get the next movie.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's this? POV change TWICE? What???
> 
> Okay, so this is hella long, and I'm hoping chapters won't be this long again because they take so much longer to write, but I hope you guys like it! 
> 
> (Elise de le Serre was from Assassin's Creed: Unity, but I rescued her and she's a lesbian now, I make the rules.)

Steve glared at the meter like it had personally offended him. The sign above it was far too confusing, he'd read encrypted notes from Nazi spies that had less contradictions. Really, was it necessary to have so many different times mean so many different things?

“Guess the 30's have something on the new century,” he muttered, feeding coins into it. “The signs weren't so goddamn confusing.”

He turned back to his bike, leaning against it to wait, now that he wasn't in danger of a parking ticket. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, definitely, not to see if Bucky had messaged again. He felt a small thrill of joy remembering when, after the second (or was it fifth?) Star Wars film, Becca had woken up and insisted they all exchange numbers. Bucky's argument that it probably wasn't safe for Steve to give out his number had fallen on deaf ears by both Steve and Becca. Just to prove that it existed now, Steve opened up their text chain. It wasn't many messages, just a few to confirm where to meet today, and further back Bucky asking if he would still like him to show Steve around.

 **Me:** Of course! If it's not too much trouble?  
**Bucky:** nah course not. us brooklyn boys gotta stick together

Steve's smile was feeling a bit too fond, so he closed the messaging app and tucked his phone away was more, crossing his arms. It was strange being back here, where he came from. It felt at the same time familiar, and so completely different. It was cleaner, brighter, there was definitely more commerce, and the people-

Steve wasn't sure he was ready to start dressing like that, but he appreciated that people were so much more daring.

“Steve!” Called a voice from up the street. Steve straightened, looked, and grinned.

Bucky waved, heading towards him. He was in a red henley, the left sleeve rolled and pinned up, and Steve agreed that red was definitely a Barnes' sibling colour. Steve waved back, smile widening as Bucky's did.

“How was the walk over?” Steve teased when Bucky was close enough.

Bucky gave him a withering look with no real heat. “What, you really think I was gonna let you know where I live this quickly? I gotta keep some mystery, Rogers.”

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “I was just being a gentleman, offering a ride to someone willing to show me around.”

“I think you were just trying to get me on that deathtrap,” Bucky said, nodding at the bike. He didn't actually seem to be concerned by it, that glint in his eye looked more impressed.

“She's gentle, I promise,” Steve teased.

“I don't see a helmet anywhere,” Bucky said after a moment, looking back at Steve with a frown.

Steve smiled a little grimly, looking off to the side. “Yeah, I- uh. I don't really need one.”

“Uh huh. And the reason for your Captain America uniform having a helmet is..?” Bucky said, stepping into Steve's line of vision.

“I'm beginning to think you're worried for my safety, Bucky,” Steve said, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Beginning to worry that I'm going to end up looking after two fools, more like,” Bucky gave him a smile that was all triumph and Steve found himself wishing he could just sweep Bucky into the nearest alleyway.

“I heal quickly, you don't have to worry about me. I survived being frozen, remember?” Steve said gently.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sure, that will definitely reassure me when I hear they had to scrape your remains off the highway.”

Steve laughed, and stepped up beside Bucky onto the sidewalk. “So, what's first?”

Bucky's look turned a little more thoughtful. “I wondered if you'd like to see where you used to live? It's close by, isn't it?” he offered.

He wasn't wrong. The streets were mapped out the same, even if they were busier than they used to be. “Yeah. Two streets that way,” Steve said, pointing.

“Is it gonna bring back more bad memories than good?” Bucky asked softly.

Steve knew why that was gentle, why that question had been asked. Bucky could understand the pain of coming home, even if they had slightly differing circumstances.

“One way to find out,” he said, looking at Bucky with a small smile. “Though I can't believe you're making me walk all that distance.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, such a strain on you, the super soldier.”

They fell into step and headed over to the crosswalk. “How's Becca doing?” Steve asked.

“She's the same as ever. Asked about you again yesterday, even though she could just text you herself,” Bucky said, sounding like he was complaining, but there was no mistaking that fond smile. Steve forgot to say anything for a good long moment, looking at the curve in Bucky's lips. When he came back to himself, Bucky was looking at him with his brows raised.

“Sorry, you were saying?” Steve tried to cover. Good job, Rogers.

“I said, I'm more concerned about you. How're you holding up?” Bucky said, mirth in his tone.

Steve frowned, confused for a moment, and then remembered. He let out a groan that had the other people at the crosswalk looking over in concern, and had Bucky laughing, patting Steve's arm sympathetically. “I know, I know.”

“His father! His father is-” Steve said, raising his hands up to his face.

“I know, it was a shock to everyone.”

“That would be like- god, that's like if the Red Skull was my father,” Steve said, with a lot of disgust.

“What, you casting yourself as Luke, now?” Bucky said. His hand had stopped patting, and now was just resting on Steve's shoulder. Steve tried very hard not to press into that small touch.

“What, you don't think that I could be?” Steve challenged.

“Well, I do happen to only have one arm,” Bucky pointed out, both with his words and literally with his one hand. Steve laughed, and tried not to mourn the loss of that small touch.

The light went green, and they set off again. “Okay, I can't argue that. Does that make me Han, then?” Steve wondered.

Bucky laughed, and screwed up his nose. “Should I be worried about you asking after Becca then?”

Steve joined in the laughter. “Oh, I wouldn't dare. I'd worry her brother would hunt me down.”

“What, you? Afraid of a one-armed man?”

“Afraid of a man who took on four Chitauri and won? With no super powers? Hell yes,” Steve said, nudging Bucky, who said nothing. He did look at Steve like he didn't believe him, which made something in Steve's chest tighten.

“I see you more as Leia anyway,” Bucky said finally.

Steve cocked his head, thinking. “She is something of an authority figure,” he reasoned.

“She's a leader. Strategic. Brave,” Bucky said. They got to the other side of the street, and Steve lead the way down, heading to his old tenement. His head was kind of reeling from Bucky's words.

“You get all that from your history class?” he said, chancing a look at Bucky.

Bucky was looking thoughtfully at the ground, and tucked his hand into his pocket. “I got all that from three weeks ago.” He looked up at Steve, and Steve was shocked that it wasn't admiration or hope or anything else in his eyes but surety. Bold, complete surety. Steve wasn't sure how he was able to keep moving, maybe something about automatically going forward was to blame, but he was grateful he didn't just stop in the street so he could stare at Bucky in what would've almost been a completely inappropriate way.

But, unfortunately, his brain did not get the memo. “Does that make you Luke still? Or Han?” For fuck's sake, Rogers! Just get on your knees if you're going to be so goddamn obvious-

“Lando,” Bucky answered, with a conspiratorial grin.

Steve raised his eyebrows and waited for an explanation.

Bucky laughed. “Oh, come on. If you have the option, you gotta take Lando. The capes, man.”

“You may have a point there,” Steve said, glad that the tension was at least eased, even though a small part of him wondered if that was the real answer. “Though I do have to wonder if you're going to make a deal that gets worse all the time-”

“Oh, don't you dare,” Bucky said, through bouts of laughter.

One turn, and a few more light Star Wars related jabs later, they were in front of a building that Steve did not recognise, but was definitely in the place of where he used to live.

“They tore it down a few years ago. I don't even know if it was the old building. You'll find that they tear down things a lot to make way for the new,” Bucky said.

Steve kept his gaze upwards. It was...comforting, that it wasn't the same. Evidence that things had changed, that would continue to change. How could he hate progress? The reason he had been beaten up in so many alleyways was because he refused to back down in the face of injustice. Maybe his old life was proof of that. Maybe he was an example of that, that the more things changed, the more people would fight. They could tear his old home down, but they could never tear down the things he had stood for and would always stand for.

“Which one was yours?” Bucky asked, drawing Steve from his thoughts.

“I can't tell from here. But if we go round the corner,” Steve said, moving to place his hand on Bucky's lower back, leading him around the corner. He made it two steps before he realised, and snatched his hand back. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”

“It's okay,” Bucky said gently, with a soft smile that made Steve's heart beat like it was the end of days.

“Just round here,” Steve rounded the corner of the building (through an alleyway, funny that), and on the other side-

Nothing that he remembered in front of him, but the memories bubbled up all the same.

He pointed to the side of the building, his other hand grabbing Bucky's shoulder. “There. Right up that wall was a staircase. All metal, probably nowadays would be a fire escape, but back then, elevators weren't a thing.” Bucky laughed, giving him an encouraging grin. Steve gripped his shoulder tighter, his thumb caressing Bucky's collarbone without Steve's input. “So that fifth window, there? That would've been me. Eighty years ago.”

“Good view,” Bucky commented.

Steve ducked his head. “Nice to know I missed out on good real estate.”

“Don't feel too bad. Gentrification ruins everything,” Bucky said, with feeling.

Steve frowned. “Gentrification?”

Bucky slid his hand up Steve's arm, and Steve tried not to shiver. “Oh, Steve. You have so much to learn.”

Steve smirked. “You have much to teach me, master?”

The look Bucky gave Steve was enough to nearly melt him into steam. “Oh, yes, padawan.”

\--

Bucky stopped in front of a beautiful, old brick building. He knew what was inside, but was still nervous about showing Steve. Even though conversation and jokes had flowed easily between them (should Bucky be reading into that?), this particular building held special meaning to him.

“Steve?” He asked, feeling unsteady for the first time all day, and yet-

“Buck?” Steve replied, resting a hand on Bucky's left shoulder.

God. If he had been alive in the 1930's, Bucky wouldn't have let this man go.

“I just- I wanna warn you. But I don't want you to feel like this is an attack,” Bucky explained, raising his arm to grip Steve's shoulder in turn (please let him have imagined that shiver that went through him).

“Promise. I'm on my best behaviour,” Steve said, with a smile that promised every kind of mischief.

“It's not that. I wouldn't ever worry you wouldn't be.” Steve ducked his head, and Bucky's heart beat harder, the traitorous organ. “Thistle and Elise, they were in my unit in Afghanistan. Thistle only for the first tour, Elise for both. They are going to grill you about me,” Bucky said.

Steve's look was understanding, and even worse, empathetic. Bucky had to look away.

“Thistle did one tour, and came home to set up this place. When Elise got tired of me-”

“I doubt that was the reason,” Steve interjected.

“...when Elise decided to come home, she joined in. They've been running this place for a few years now,” Bucky said. He very quickly buried his feelings concerning what Steve said. God, it hit him right in his chest (he refused to think his heart), but he wasn't going to subject two of his soldiers to anything other than the best.  
And while Captain Rogers might stand for America, he was from an older time.

“They're married. And proud of it,” Bucky said, waiting for Steve's reaction.

And, as seemed to be the usual, Steve wasn't the product of his time.

His eyes widened, yes, and he looked at Bucky with some shock, but-

“They...you can marry the same gender?” Steve's voice was breathless.

Bucky had to fight to not let that get to his head.

“Yeah. Completely legal,” he confirmed.

“Seriously?” Steve asked, in that same breathless, wondrous tone.

Bucky laughed. “I promise, I'm not lying.”

Steve straightened. “I didn't think you were, it's just...in my time, you'd be arrested for being like me.”

What.

What!?

“Like you?” Bucky asked, hardly daring, expecting push back, expecting Steve to tell him to back off.

“Yeah, I...Nat says the word is 'bisexual', but back in my day, we didn't have any other words but insults. It made it difficult to...well. I suppose I don't need to tell you-”

Every single one of Bucky's nerves caught alight. He knew? Steve knew that he-

“-especially since you had people in your unit that felt like me.”

Oh.

“Yeah...yeah. Wow,” Bucky started, and then caught himself. Steve had just come out to him. Captain America had just come out to him. That was a huge fucking deal.

“Steve, thank you,” Bucky said, taking Steve's hand. Steve sucked in a breath, his hand trembling slightly.

“What for?” He replied, and was Bucky imagining the shaky tone in his voice?

“For trusting me. It's a big deal, even if people are more accepting these days,” Bucky explained, squeezing Steve's hand.

Steve laughed, somewhat emotionless (do not read into that, Barnes). “Times have to change. I knew that, back when I was challenging bullies in alleyways.”

Bucky squeezed his hand. “Change has to start somewhere. Maybe you were a catalyst?”

Steve gave him a look that was so soft that Bucky nearly considered a new life as a puddle. “I never set out to be,”

“Revolutionaries rarely do,” Bucky said. Steve let go of Bucky's hand to wrap an arm around him, and damn-

It felt right.

Bucky lead the way inside the old brick building, only separating them when they sat at the bar.

“You'll love both of them. No bullshit in any part of either of them, whatsoever,” Bucky staged whispered to him. Steve shot him a conspiratorial look and Bucky grinned back.

“Takes you three weeks after the city is nearly buried to come and visit, Barnes?” A woman, piles of curly red hair spilling around her shoulders, walks along the bar to stop in front of Bucky, her words coloured by a French accent. “You better have nearly lost the other arm.”

“De le Serre, you know nothing would keep from here but Becca. I'd drag myself in here bleeding out,” Bucky said, leaning on the bar to grin at Elise.

Elise crossed powerful arms at him, raising an eyebrow. “You're incredibly lucky that you're cute,” she said, deadpan.

Steve laughed at that, which caught Elise's attention. She tilted her head, frowning at him, and Bucky chuckled when her look turned from curiousity to recognition.

“Merde,” she said, with feeling.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Steve replied, holding out his hand. “Steve Rogers.”

“Definitely knew that. Elise de le Serre,” Elise replied, shaking his hand, looking a little in shock.

“Honoured to meet you,” Steve said warmly.

“It's actually Corporal Elise de le Serre,” Bucky corrected, smiling at the way Elise screwed up her nose at him.

“Yeah, yeah, remind me again how you outrank me,” she said drily, flicking a tea towel at him. She turned back to Steve. “Not that it's not incredible to have you in my brewery, but what are you doing here?”

Bucky sighed. “I should've also warned you she's blunt to a fault.”

“That's okay, I prefer it. I work mostly with spies, remember,” Steve said, resting a hand on Bucky's left shoulder for a moment, like he had in the alley behind the apartment block. Bucky maintained a very neutral face, but a look out of the corner of his eye showed him a glint in Elise's eyes. He was definitely in trouble. “Bucky's showing me around. Things have changed a lot in the last 70-odd years.”

“They certainly have. I imagine it's strange to find that Brooklyn is a trendy neighbourhood now,” Elise said, giving Bucky another look. Bucky fought the urge to just grab Steve and leave.

“Definitely,” Steve agreed, not with Bucky's thoughts, Bucky had to tell himself.

“I see that he's already on 'Bucky' terms, Barnes,” Elise said with a knowing look directly at him.

“He saved my life, De le,” Bucky shot back, smirking at her when she raised an eyebrow.

Steve laughed, a little nervously. “You were doing that on your own. I just lended a hand,” he said, then immediately winced.

Elise laughed. “Literally, I bet.”

“Okay, enough, you're going to frighten him off,” Bucky said to Elise, then leaned into Steve's side for a moment. “It's fine.”

“I really didn't mean it that way,” Steve said, with an uneasy smile.

“I know. Believe me, I'm well past being upset by that kind of thing,” Bucky assured him.

“You sure?” Steve said, concern colouring his voice.

“Yeah. I'm all right now,” Bucky said.

Elise groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

Steve frowned at Bucky, a little confused clearly, until Bucky slowly raised his right, and only, arm, and wiggled his fingers at Steve. There was a moment where Steve just looked at the hand, and then he looked back at Bucky, who half smiled.

Then Steve's head dropped and he started laughing. “Buck, that's awful,” he said helplessly.

“Yeah, well, if I don't make them, no one else will,” Bucky said, grinning, trying not to react to much to 'Buck'.

“Both of you are banned for life,” Elise said, mostly into her hands.

Then there was a crash from behind Elise, and all three of them looked up to the source. A willowy woman, with a cloud of blue-with-blonde-regrowth hair, barely seemed to notice that she'd dropped a glass, so shocked to see Steve sitting there.

Elise was quick to move to her wife's side, checking that she was okay. _Anything hurt?_ She signed.

 _That's Captain America_ , Thistle signed back, then caught Bucky's eye, and pointed firmly at Steve.

“Sure is!” Bucky said out loud, and signed.

Steve waved. “Hey! You all right?”

Thistle just stared at him.

“Babe, you're being rude,” Elise said, signing as well. “Thistle, this is Steve. Steve, this is Thistle de le Serre, my wife.”

Thistle gave Elise a look, and then started to sign at Steve. Elise translated. “More like she's my wife.”

Steve grinned, though he did look somewhat out of place. “Nice to meet you, too!” Elise signed for him.

He turned to Bucky then, looking worried. “I don't know any sign language.” he admitted.

“That's okay, we'll just talk for you. Promise we won't twist your words too much,” Bucky said, signing as he went so Thistle could 'hear'.

“Don't worry, I'll know when they're lying, I always do,” Elise says, watching Thistle's hands. Thistle smiles at Steve, and Steve seems to relax.

 _I better clean this glass up_ , Thistle signs to Elise.

 _I'll get Abby to do it_ , Elise signs back, and then bellows out, “Abby! Get a broom!”

A third woman, this one barely 21, slumps behind the counter. She's dressed like she fell into a op shop rack and decided to keep it all. She barely glances at Steve as she ducks behind the bar.

“Hey, I'm-” Steve begins, but Abby is quick to shoot him a glare.

“I don't care,” she said, grabbing the brush and heading to the broken glass. She then paused, looked back around, with a searching look in her eyes. “Did you bring the shield?” She questioned, eyes narrowed.

“Uh...I don't usually take it out with me-” Steve started again, but was once again cut off when Abby snarled.

“Then I doubly don't care.” With that, she started sweeping up glass.

Bucky was really struggling to hold in his laughter, but pressed his shoulder into Steve's side in solidarity. “She's a charmer right?” He burst out laughing when Abby turned to fix her best pissy glare at him.

“Hence why we don't keep her behind the bar,” Elise said drily, ruffling Abby's hair as she moved past. Abby made a noise like an angry cat, dodging away, heading into the back. Thistle snorted as she went past.

“Right, that bit of excitement over, what'll it be, monsieurs?” Elise leaned against the bar taps.

“You still doing those samplers?” Bucky asked, and Elise nodded.

“Coming right up,” she said, gathering what she needed, Thistle helping out once she saw what she was doing.

“They brew everything here. very scientific,” Bucky said to Steve. He realised he never pulled away from Steve's side, so he sat back up.

Was it just his imagination, or did Steve lean slightly towards him when he did?

“There's...a lot of variety,” Steve commented, peering at the assortment of bottles in the fridges.

“Yeah, everything got fancier when people decided to stop settling for bland,” Bucky said, grinning at Steve's exasperated look.

“We didn't know any better yet!” Steve said, trying to sound defensive, but the laugh halfway through ruined that somewhat.

“You're about to know very much better,” Elise said very proudly, sliding two wooden boards in front of them, each with four different samples of beer. “Very, very much.”

“I'm surprised you're not doing something with wine. Had some very nice wine while I was in France,” Steve commented, picking up one of the glasses.

“That is stereotyping, and I will not stand for it,” Elise said, pointing a finger in Steve's face. He had the sense to look chided. “I've been an American citizen for ten years, and I plan on staying that way.” She dropped back behind the bar, hand over her heart.

“Deepest apologies, Corporal,” Steve said, raising his glass to her. She winked, and headed down the bar to tend to someone else.

“She likes you,” Bucky said, feeling very glad that he decided to bring Steve here.

“She's incredible. Reminds me a bit of Peggy,” Steve said, somewhat wistfully. He took a sip of the beer while Bucky wondered at his words. “That's...that barely tastes like beer.”

“Which one is that?” Bucky checked against his own, and took a sip. “Oh yeah, that's that grapefruit thing. She knows I hate it,” Bucky said, pulling a face and dumping it back down.

“Grapefruit?” Steve looked so shocked Bucky had to laugh. “You can just...put that in beer?”

“I'm sure there's more to it than that, but yeah. I think that dark one on the end is a chocolate orange stout,” Bucky said, and then promptly broke out into more wheezing laughter at Steve's face.

“Who came up with this?” Steve said, almost to himself as he stared at the glass.

“I dare you to try it,” Bucky gasped out between laughter.

Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky, then downed the entire glass. Bucky had to grip the bar to stop himself falling off, shaking with laughter.

“I've been told I never back down from a challenge,” Steve said, placing the glass back in place, grinning at Bucky.

“And? What did you think?” Bucky asked, managing to calm down for a moment, chest heaving with every breath.

Steve cocked his head, frowning in thought. “Not terrible,” he finally landed on.

Bucky held up his own glass, cheersing him. “Highest of compliments,” he teased.

Steve smiled back, unrepentantly, every inch the hell-raiser he'd clearly always been.

\--

“So,” Steve said, breaking the momentary silence. Bucky looked back to him, leaning his chin on his hand. He looked so soft and comfortable that Steve actually forgot what he was going to ask. He just stared at Bucky, admiring the soft curls that just brushed his forehead, the long line of his neck-

“Steve? You still there?” Bucky said, lifting his head so he could wave his hand in Steve's face.

Steve coughed awkwardly, kicking himself internally. “Yeah, sorry. Drifted for a moment.”

“Yeah. I get that,” Bucky said, and Steve wondered what that meant, and didn't let himself pin too much hope on it.

A glance up reminded him of what he was going to ask, and he pointed up to the rainbow flag. “Not sure what country that's supposed to represent?” Steve said, by way of questioning, and Bucky smiled.

“Well, country is the eventual hope, I guess,” Bucky laughed. Steve looked back at him, waiting for the explanation. Bucky's smile was soft, and Steve tried his best to freeze it in his memory so he could sketch it later. “It's the gay pride flag. Each colour represents something, and the flag as a whole represents the community.”

“Really? And people can just...fly it?” Steve stared up at it in wonder. He couldn't even imagine having something like that displayed proudly, back in his time. The idea of it- It made him feel a combination of fierce pride and absolute terror.

“Yeah. Any where you see that flag, you know it's a safe place,” Bucky continued. He then tapped Steve's shoulder, and pointed at a very similar flag a little further down the wall, this one in shades of pink and orange. “That's specifically for lesbians. And-” Bucky dug out his phone, Steve watching with some odd nervousness. He laid it on the bar to tap away at it, then slid it over to Steve. “-that, is the bisexual flag.”

Steve picked the phone up, looking at it. It was simple, only three colours, but the feeling it produced-  
Had he ever looked at the red, white and blue with this much hope?

“My flag?” He asked, weirdly dependent on the answer.

“Yeah, Steve.” Bucky's voice was so gentle, and so pleased that Steve had to wonder how he hadn't fallen off the bar stool yet. “And only three colours.”

Steve looked at him, frowning, and was met with a cheeky smile. “You know, if you ever needed a colour scheme change,” Bucky said, and Steve laughed, throwing his head back.

“God, imagine the outcry,” he said, shaking his head.

“What, Captain America can't be bi?” Bucky asked, leaning closer to Steve. Steve tried not to turn into him, as if seeking his warmth.

“There's a lot Captain America is supposed to be. Lucky me, all of it was decided while I was in the ice,” Steve said drily. “I think a lot of people forgot that Steve Rogers is a person as well.”

Silence fell between them, and Steve immediately regretted saying anything. Too personal, way too personal for this early on in a friendship, especially if he planned on making it last. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” he started, and stopped when Bucky stood up.

Was he leaving? Fuck, he should've just stayed quiet-

And then Bucky took his hand, squeezed it, and pulled it close to his chest. “I'm so sorry. You should be able to be whoever you want. Whoever you are. Because from what I've seen so far? Captain America is great, but Steve Rogers? He's spectacular.”

Steve promptly forgot all knowledge of language, social norms, and anything that wasn't staring at James Barnes like he was completely unreal. Because there is no way that he could've just said those things, no way on Earth that he could believe them, he didn't even know Steve, not really and-

“Uh, did I break you?” Bucky chuckled nervously.

“I...Jesus, Bucky, I don't-” Steve managed to get out, remembering some words. He tightened his grip on Bucky's hand, feeling his fingers brush against his shirt, and then there was an animal urge to feel below that, that he tried very hard to suppress.

“When I came back, once I was out of the hospital, a lot of people had an image of me in their head. They saw the war hero, the sergeant. They didn't see how much I was hurting. Becca did, and she told me every day about myself. Little things, you know. The parts that made me, me. You,” Bucky said softly, stepping a little closer into Steve's personal space. Steve wondered how to breathe. “You haven't got anyone like that, have you?”

Steve shook his head. “Nat and Clint, Tony- they try, but-”

“They read the comics too, huh?” Bucky said, smiling knowingly.

Steve nodded, smiling grimly. “It was easier being the persona.”

“Well, you can forget that shit around me, Rogers,” Bucky said, letting Steve's hand go to punch his shoulder lightly. Steve pretended to be wounded for a moment, and delighted in the laugh-groan Bucky let out.

Bucky slid back onto the stool, and picked up his beer.

Steve had a thought, and before he could process how smart the question was, he asked it. “What's yours?” He blurted out.

Bucky looked at him, questioning.

Steve cleared his throat. “What's your flag?” He paused. “You don't have to answer that if you don't want to.” He was being especially blunt today, it seemed.

Bucky smiled, that soft one again. He pointed to the rainbow one.

Steve frowned. “I thought that was for the community?”

“A gay man made it, I get to claim it,” Bucky said simply, his smile turning confident. Steve wouldn't lie to himself, that was a very attractive look on Bucky (what wasn't?).

“So, you're gay?” Steve confirmed, keeping his voice low, in case Bucky didn't want the rest of the bar to know.

“One hundred percent,” Bucky replied, his voice normal.

Steve looked at his hands, smiling to himself. When he looked back up, there was a crease between Bucky's brows.

“Thank you,” Steve said, remembering their conversation from earlier.

The furrow increased. “For what?” Bucky replied.

“For trusting me,” Steve said, resting a hand on Bucky's left shoulder.

Bucky met his eyes, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if the Chitauri made a second go out at destroying New York.

Somehow they managed to return the conversation to Steve's list, Bucky adding a few more things onto it, and things between them took a step back from a metaphorical ledge. Steve was surprised that he found the ledge tempting, exciting. He wanted to know what would happen if he took Bucky's hand and they both just...jumped.

They argued about who was going to pay, Steve almost certain he would win, until he realised that when he turned around, Bucky had already slid cash to Thistle. She was grinning, and signed something at Bucky, that made the tops of his cheeks turn red. He signed back, and she raised her hands as if in surrender. Steve put his wallet back in his pocket, and he and Bucky made their way back onto the street, Steve turning back to wave at Thistle and Elise.

Bucky walked him back to his bike, and they made a loose plan to meet up on the weekend at the hospital. “I'll text you,” Bucky said, waving as he headed back the way he'd arrived. Steve watched him go, and tried not to will his phone to buzz.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...two chapters in one day? Who Am I. 
> 
> Quick one this time, mostly fleshing out the non-Stucky relationships, but also maintaining that Steve and Bucky are now Aware They Have A Shot. 
> 
> enjoy!

8.30pm  
**Becca** : soooooo? tell me eVERYTHING  
**Me** : it was good. talked a lot about changes. he seems to be settlin ok  
**Becca** : okay gr8 but what was he wearing did he gaze into ur eyes for too long  
**Me** : becca pls  
**Becca** : dont u becca me im buckying u  
**Me** : becs we're lucky to be friends with him  
**Becca** : friends dont usually eyefuck eachother  
**Me** : i am blocking ur number  
**Becca** : ha! i fucking wISH  
**Me** : goodbye forever  
**Becca** : DID U REGRET NOT GETTING ON THE BIKE WITH HIM  
**Me** : The Number You Have Texted Is No Longer Available  
**Becca** : Buchanan Barnes I Will Have The Truth  
**Becca** : u forget I also have his number  
**Me** : becca dont u dare  
**Me** : becca  
**Me** : BECCA

\--  
8.34pm  
**Rebecca B** : Hey Steve! How was Brooklyn?  
**Me** : Hey Becca! It was good! Bucky is an excellent tour guide.  
**Rebecca B** : I'm so glad to hear that! Did you get to see all your old alleyways?  
**Me** : Haha, definitely had to show him the Steve Rogers Got His Ass Kicked Tour.  
**Rebecca B** : Soon to be a tourist trap, for sure :)  
**Me** : Very sweet of you to say.  
**Rebecca B** : I am just made of sweetness. Ask anyone except Bucky  
**Me** : Haha! He knows you too well?  
**Rebecca B** : Exactly. Did he take you anywhere special?  
**Me** : Yeah, my old apartment block. And down where I used to work, at the magazine. It's a Starbucks now?  
**Rebecca B** : Good old Starbucks, ruining the history of America  
**Me** : Building was a bit of an eyesore, can't say I miss it too much, haha. He also took me to his friend's bar.  
**Rebecca B** : Elise and Thistle's place? Oooh! What did you think?  
**Me** : That they're amazing. Would've loved friends as brave as that in the 30's.  
**Me** : ...Becca? You okay?  
**Rebecca B** : Sorry, yeah. Fine. That's just- sweet. I'm glad you had a good day  
**Me** : I did :) Thank you for messaging!  
**Rebecca B** : I mostly did it to antagonise Bucky, but any time Steve :)  
**Me** : Oh! Should I message him something to continue that?  
**Rebecca B** : ...I like you. You're devious.  
**Rebecca B** : Send him this:

\--  
8.38pm  
**Me** : Hey Bucky, Becca mentioned something about you in middle school and a pirate costume? She said you'd explain?  
**Bucky** : _read 8.39pm_

\--  
9.14pm  
**Me** : steve, if i was to murder someone, say a woman around 24 years old, how long would i have before u came after me  
**Steve** : For you? At least twenty minutes.

\--

Steve caught Nat's leg, shoving her back with his other hand, ducking and rolling to avoid her punch. “You're getting predictable, Romanov.”

“Or maybe I'm lulling you into a false sense of security,” Nat said, jumping back out of Steve's reach, bouncing lightly on her toes. 

Steve raised his eyebrows at her. “Lull faster.” He charged forward, feinting right, catching her foot with his own, spinning, and then swung his fist around, stopping just before it connected. Nat didn't even blink. Steve sighed. “You're going easy on me,” he said, stepping back from her, hands on his hips.

Nat shrugged. “So what if I am?” 

“You don't have to protect my ego, Nat. I'd rather you show me where I can improve. Hand to hand has changed since basic training,” Steve chided. 

Nat didn't seem even the slightest bit bothered by that. She shrugged again, heading to the corner of the ring to grab her water. “I just figured you'd rather be the heavy-hitter.”

“I'd rather be the smart hitter,” Steve pointed out. Nat looked back at him, raising her eyebrow. “It's all well and good to hit hard, but I'm not invulnerable. We come up against someone who won't go down in one punch, and can move faster than me-”

Nat snorted. “Like who?” 

“-and all the super strength in the world won't stop them from taking me down. I have to hit hard, yes, but smart too,” Steve said, fixing Nat with a look. He'd used that look, the You-Think-You-Can-Stop-Me? look, on generals and commanders to get Commandos missions green lit, but it didn't seem to do much on Nat, except make her look slightly curiously at him. 

Then, after a moment of silence, the left corner of her mouth curled into a smirk. “You may have a point there, Rogers.”

She put her water bottle down in the corner, rolled her shoulders back, and dropped into a ready stance. Steve smiled, nodding at her. Good. This is what he wanted, Nat showing him exactly what he needed to change. He readied himself, waiting for her go. 

“Try and keep up, Rogers,” Nat grinned, shark-like.

What followed was an hour and a half of Steve Rogers thoroughly getting his ass kicked. 

He eventually tapped Nat's arm, and she released his arm and took her knee from the small of his back. He rolled onto his back, trying not to seem like he was out of breath. Not that it worked, at all.

“You asked for it,” Nat said, nudging his arm with her foot. 

“Yeah, and you proved to me exactly what I was talking about. Did I land a single hit?” Steve asked, reaching out blindly to grab her ankle. She easily stepped out of his grip. 

“Not this time. We'll give it a few more goes, see what happens,” Nat said, leaning over him to grin triumphantly. Steve laughed, then pushed himself up so he was sitting, and caught the water bottle Nat threw at him. “How's apartment hunting?” She asked, sitting down next to him with her own. 

Steve took a long drink first. “On hold. Fury's saying something about bringing me on SHIELD missions. Just to see if I'm a good fit. I'll be living on Tony's hospitality for a while longer,” he said, bringing his knees up to rest his arms on them. 

“That gonna be a problem?” Nat asked. 

“Don't think so. Nothing like an alien invasion to let bygones be bygones,” Steve replied. Nat laughed. Steve smiled, and watched her stretch out for a moment. “You know, if I do end up working for SHIELD, you'll see a lot more of me.”

“Compared to the last few weeks when we've barely seen each other?” Nat said, her tone sarcastic enough to strip the paint from the walls. 

“Certainly in a different context. I doubt Fury's going to let me be in charge as easily as you all did,” Steve commented, feeling his eyebrows rise into his hair as Nat rolled into a full split, her stomach on the ground. 

“You never know. You did a good job keeping us together,” Nat said, with no strain at all in her voice. The serum did make Steve a bit more flexible, he wondered if he could copy her without causing himself injury. “Well. Nearly. There was that time you went rogue,” she said, pushing herself back up to eye him. 

Steve eyed her right back. “It was half an hour, barely-”

“Still. The last time you went rogue, you crashed a plane into the Arctic.”

“That- That was a sanctioned mission!”

“So have you seen them recently?” Nat said, sitting up fully and crossing her legs. 

Steve nearly reeled at the sudden subject change. “Who?”

“The St. Lucia's people? The ones you went rogue for half an hour for?” Nat pressed, propping her elbows onto her knees and leaning her chin in her hands. 

Steve looked at her, frowning. “You genuinely asking, or are you digging for dirt?” It's not that he didn't trust Nat- maybe that was wrong. He was still learning to trust Nat, considering they hadn't known each other all that long, and he knew she was a spy, and he knew next to nothing about her and would probably never know more. He was just, he supposed, lonely, and Nat, Clint, the others, they'd been the first people he could consider friends in his new present. He was just also aware that everything he said might be taken straight to Fury, and that man Steve definitely didn't trust.

Nat punched him. He barely felt it, but frowned harder at her all the same. “Come on. I can't be doing both? And with no ulterior motives?” She smiled at him, charming and even a little seductive, but her eyes gave her away. She was honing in on him like he was bleeding in the water, and he was man enough to admit that he was a little terrified. 

“I'll believe you have no ulterior motives when you tell me one fact about your past,” Steve said, looking back at her with a smile he hoped said 'your move'. 

He and Nat stared at each other for a long minute, and then Nat sighed, dropping her hands into her lap. “Fine. I was actually born in Russia,” she said, in the manner of pulling a bullet out of a wound. 

Steve laughed. “Okay, yeah, I should've been more specific. That's on me,” he said, and smiled when Nat's shoulders dropped, tension gone from her body. 

“Remember that next time you try to pry information out of me,” Nat said, returning her elbows and chin to where they were before. “Now spill.” 

Steve stretched out, leaning back on his hands. Downtime like this, where there was nothing to be planned, or fought for, where he could sleep, feeling actually safe, this was the strangest and most welcome change the future had brought him. Even if he did have a Russian spy's eyes boring into him, like she could get all his secrets that way. 

“I have seen them recently,” he said finally. He tried not to laugh as he felt Nat's glare sharpen.

“And?” She said, forcefully. 

Steve flashed a winning grin at her. “That's all you asked, Romanov.”

Nat's mouth dropped open, and yet there was mirth in her eyes. “No, no, you are not allowed to use my out,” she said, punching his shoulder again. That time Steve definitely felt something. 

“Okay, I'm very sorry. I'm promise I won't do it again,” he laughed, shoving her gently back. Nat's grin returned to being predatory, but there was a moment where she looked almost vulnerable. Steve swallowed back concern, knowing that she wouldn't admit to it anyway. 

Well. There's one thing he knew about her. 

“I never thanked you, by the way. For telling me about the bisexual thing,” he said, trying to sound offhand. 

Nat waved an airy hand. “Consider it part of your 2012 orientation. Not like it's particularly pertinent information,” she said, stretching out her legs to match Steve's posture. 

Steve grinned to himself, then turned the same smile on Nat. She frowned at him, then her mouth dropped open again, and she almost looked genuinely surprised. “Steve! I had-”

“You knew, don't hide it,” Steve laughed. 

Nat's smile was warm, if a tiny bit guilty. “Well, I wasn't going to say anything.”

“I mean, I did ask what 'bi' was.”

“Yeah, because Barton thought it would be funny to show you Twitter, and that was one of the first things to come up.”

“I know now, though. And it's nice to have the actual word,” Steve said, nudging her with his shoulder. 

“I really wasn't going to out you, Steve,” Nat said, and she looked worried. “I wouldn't do that.”

“I know,” Steve said, and felt it. Whether he could trust her or not, Nat was secretive. “I never thought you would.”

Nat was quiet for a moment, and Steve was careful not to look at her, in case he saw something in her that she wasn't ready to reveal. Eventually, she coughed quietly, and he took that as his cue to look back around. 

“There a particular reason you bringing that up now?” She asked, and Steve had to stop himself from pulling away from her returned and more powerful shark grin. 

“...no?” He tried, and Nat moved onto her knees to truly peer at him. 

“Huh. You didn't even try to lie that time,” she said, and Steve nearly worried she could read his mind. “You'd make a terrible spy.” She dropped back onto the floor, crossing her legs again. “I said it before, and I'll say it now. I'm just needling. You don't actually have to say anything.”

That reassured Steve, despite the hungry way Nat grilled him for information. “You say that, but you also get this very disappointed look when you don't get all of my secrets,” he teased gently. 

“Well,” Nat said, rolling her shoulders. “I'm used to getting my way.” 

Not true, Steve wanted to say. 

Instead, he admitted to himself that he did want to talk about the Barnes'. Bucky especially. And Nat was one of the first friends he'd made. 

“I saw them on the weekend. Visited the hospital. I've now seen the Star Wars original trilogy and the first Lord of the Rings,” Steve said, and couldn't help but smile at Nat's pleased look. 

“Are they trying to turn you into a nerd?” She said, with no real heat. 

Steve laughed. “I already was one. Just books were more common. Speaking of which, Lord of the Rings-”

“I know of it,” Nat said. 

“It's a book. A whole goddamn book!”

“Yeah, yeah it is!” Nat laughed.

“Wasn't when I was-” don't say alive “-young.”

“Want us to find you a copy? Start you filling out that bookcase in your room?” 

“Actually, yeah. I think it's on my list actually,” Steve said, absently reaching for it, but his workout gear didn't have pockets, and so the notebook was in his jacket, in his room. 

“Not to get us back on the subject, or anything, but are you gonna keep seeing them? The siblings?” Nat asked. 

Steve could feel his fond smile in his toes. “Probably. Bucky's shown me around some of Brooklyn. Wouldn't mind seeing the rest.” 

“...of Brooklyn or him?” 

“Nat,” Steve groaned. Her laugh was unrepentant. 

“Sorry, sorry. I'll stop. It is really sweet though, that you still see them.” Nat sounded wistful, and a little sad. 

Steve looked at her, searchingly. “You never checked up on people you saved?” 

Nat was quiet for a long moment. Steve let her think. Eventually she looked up, and fixed her eyes on a corner of the room. “Once I get involved, it's rarely about saving people.” 

Steve felt his heart sink for her. Red in her ledger, she'd said once. He felt like he had a debt he could never repay, but for her...

For her, it was a little more literal. 

“Feel like you could go another few rounds? I think I've got your pattern down,” Steve offered, offering his hand metaphorically. 

Nat took a breath, then flashed her teeth at him. “You wish, Rogers.” 

She bounced to her feet, and Steve grudgingly stood up. 

Thank god he healed quickly. 

\--

Becca shifted her legs slightly, and Bucky's head on her knees slipped slightly, his left headphone falling out of his ear. “Oi,” he said, poking her. 

“Oi yourself, my foot was going numb,” she said, without looking up from her phone. Bucky smiled to himself, readjusting himself so he was lying comfortably, his feet propped up on the wall. He tucked his headphone back in, and closed his eyes. He hadn't heard this new album yet, and was enjoying the relative peace of being still for a moment. 

Until Becca poked him again. 

Bucky took one headphone out, and looked up at her. “What?” 

“Steve not coming today?” She asked, attempting to seem nonchalant and failing miserably. Bucky had to smile at that. 

“Yeah, he's got Avenger business. I told you that, didn't I? Like, the moment I walked in,” he said, pouting at her sadly when she frowned. 

“I thought maybe he'd texted you. Or something,” she muttered, looking actually disappointed. Bucky was seized by the sudden worry that maybe she had a crush on Steve too, and quickly shoved that worry down. The both of them had far too much to actually worried about than whether a superhero would date them.

“Something wrong, Becs?” He coaxed, gently. She locked her phone, and threw it on the bed beside her. The tubes attached to her arm knocked against the machines they were connected on the other end to. 

“I dunno. I just- I thought after you guys hung out that day that you'd see each other more often,” Becca said, reaching out to thread her hand through Bucky's hair. He could feel her hand shake slightly, and wondered if she'd eaten enough today. At least, he did, before her words sunk in. 

“And why does that matter so much to you?” He asked, incredulously. 

“Because you look happy when you see him, Bucks,” Becca replied, and tears sprang into her eyes. 

Fuck. Bucky knew exactly what this was about. 

“Becca, Becs,” Bucky said softly, immediately sitting up, and gathering as much of his baby sister into his arm as he could. “Becca, don't think like that.” 

“How can I not?” Becca sobbed into his shoulder. “You look happy, and I need to know that when I-”

“No, Becs, we don't think like that,” Bucky said, holding her bony body tight. 

“You don't. I do. One day I won't be here, and I need to know-” 

“You'll be here forever,” Bucky urged.

“Buck-” Becca's voice was desperate. 

“No, Becs.” Bucky pulled back far enough so he could cup his sister's face, and look her straight in the eye. “You're gonna outlive us all. We're gonna find a way to beat this, and then you're gonna be the first human to live forever.” 

Becca's eyes turned fierce, even despite the tears pouring down her face. “When I die, I need to know that you're gonna be happy. And Steve makes you happy. I can see that, and I need to know that there's going to be something out there for you when I-”

“Becca, stop,” Bucky said, and it came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn't hear this. He could feel his heart breaking with every word Becca spoke. He couldn't even consider- fathom, a world where Becca wasn't in it. It made his stomach turn, bile burn in his throat. 

“I'm sorry,” Becca said, in a tiny, weak voice. 

Bucky looked up at her, feeling tears of his own start. “No, Becs, don't be sorry. I know you're scared. I'm fucking terrified.” He wrapped his arm back around her, and pressed kisses to her hair. She tucked her head into his neck, her hands shaking against his sides. 

Eventually they slid apart, and Bucky took one of her hands in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. 

“He does make me happy,” Bucky admitted, quietly. 

Becca squeezed his hand. “Does he know that?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it's too soon? Because it's too fast? Because I'm-”

“If the next thing you say is 'not good enough', you're going to be beaten up. By me.” 

Bucky laughed wetly. “Okay, I won't say it then,” he said, smiling at her. 

Becca pushed him. “You're not even allowed to think it. He clearly doesn't.”

“You don't know that,” Bucky said, trying to sound light, but maybe that revealed a little too much of Bucky's mindset. 

“You don't know that,” Becca said, firmly. “I do know something, though. And that's every time you're in the room, his eyes follow you.” 

“What does that even mean, Becs?” Bucky asked, slightly worn out. 

Becca shrugged. “No idea. Curious thing though, right?” 

Her eyes were red, her cheeks were wet with tears, and her shoulders were trembling, but Bucky could see how sure she was, and he couldn't help a small, proud smile. 

“If you only you put your determination into starting an online course, instead of matchmaking me,” he teased, and he could hear himself how weak it was. Becca didn't comment on it, instead pulling him down so she was curled against him. 

Bucky wrapped his arm around her, hand rubbing along her spine. He nearly didn't hear her words, but he did, and his stomach dropped. 

“I like planning for futures that will actually happen,” Becca whispered.

Bucky tightened his hold on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi the reason i only call natasha/natalia nat is because i do not know which name i'd rather use okay byeeeeeee


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i should probably find out why all of my characters are always so touched starved.......
> 
> Becca and Steve play Overcooked and Bucky is brave. Enjoy!

“Hey Keshini,” Steve greeted, heading up to the reception desk. Keshini looked up, and gave him a professional smile, though it did have a hint of fondness.

“Good morning, Mr Grant! Signing in?”

“Yeah, has James checked in yet?” Steve asked, leaning on the desk. 

“Not yet,” Keshini said, clicking a couple of things, before shooting him a smile. “All good. Head on up.” 

Steve thanked her, and headed to the elevator. Bucky wasn't usually later than him. At least, he hadn't been the last few times Steve had been by. He felt a small bit of worry that something had happened while he was away, but pushed it to one side, knowing that either he or Becca would've told Steve. That's what friends did. 

The doors opened on the fourth floor, and Steve headed to Becca's room. The door was open, but two cleaning staff were all that was inside. “Uh, hi?” Steve said, catching their attention. 

“You looking for Miss Barnes?” One asked. Steve nodded. “She's just in the lounge, head down that way. We'll be done soon, then she'll be moved back in.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, and headed down the hallway, following their instructions. Through another door was a small, rather sterile, lounge area. There was a small kitchenette, a few vending machines, and Becca, curled up on one couch, the machines that kept her alive next to her. 

“I was concerned for a moment you'd been kicked out,” Steve said, by way of greeting. 

Becca's head shot up, and her grin was blindingly bright. Steve's smile grew in response. “Haha, they love me way too much to do that. I thought you weren't back for another couple of days?” She patted the couch next to her, and Steve was happy to drop down next to her, grimacing a little as the wounds in his side stretched. 

“I did say the 7th to Bucky,” Steve pointed out. “It's the 9th today.” 

Becca frowned, and checked the date on her phone. “Oh, goodie. I'm losing time now,” she said, and Steve frowned. That didn't sound good. Before he could ask her how she was feeling, she turned on him with a very serious look that nearly rivalled Nat's. “You just grimaced. You're in pain. How are you in pain?” She pointed a finger in his face.

Steve tried very hard not to shrink back. “I, uh, got shot?” 

“You got shot.” Becca's voice was monotone, but she looked confused. 

“Yeah. Twice, just under my ribs. I'm okay, though. Healing up fine.” 

“How? Did you get shot?” Becca's confusion seemed to be growing.

Steve couldn't help a small laugh. “What, you think I can dodge everything?” 

“I mean, yeah. Or that you were bulletproof, or whatever.” 

“Unfortunately, that is not the case. I'm just strong and can heal quickly,” Steve said, smiling fondly at Becca. 

Becca seemed to be appeased by that, sinking back into the cushions, and Steve opened his mouth to try again to ask how she was, but then she sat bolt upright and glared at him. 

“You got shot, how long ago!?” She shouted, and Steve frantically shushed her. 

“Becca! Not so loud!” He urged, looking behind her, worried that someone would come and drag him onto a hospital bed, bursting his paper-thin cover.

“Sorry, sorry, but you weren't even gone that long, and if you got shot-” Becca said, whispering. 

“I heal fast! Really fast. I swear I'm okay,” Steve assured her, taking one of her frantically waving hands in his own. “Here, I'll show you.” Steve lifted up his shirt to show her the gauze strapped over his side. There wasn't much, just enough to cover the two small holes.

Becca frowned at it. “Should you really be up and about with those?” She said, uneasily. 

“What, and hold out on seeing you? Wouldn't dream of it,” Steve said, dropping his shirt so he could grab Becca's other hand, squeezing them both gently. 

Becca sighed. “That's very cute, but I would rather you in one piece, and I know that Bucky would agree with me-”

“Well, that depends on what I'm agreeing on,” came Bucky's voice from the doorway. 

Steve's eyes locked on him, like any minute spent not looking at Bucky was a moment wasted. It had only been a week since they last saw each other, but nothing felt more right than being in the same room as him. Bucky's smile was he met Steve's eyes was so soft and warm, and Steve's entire body thrummed with the speed of his pulse. 

The moment was doomed not to last, however, when Becca turned to see her brother, and immediately ratted Steve out. “Steve got shot.” 

Bucky's face dropped into shock and worry, and Steve sighed, turning a worn-out look on Becca. “Really?” He said.

“What the hell are you doing getting shot? Why are you even up?” Bucky demanded, crossing the room. 

“Welcome to my life,” Becca said, smiling painfully. 

Steve gave her a withering look, and braced himself for Bucky. 

\--

 **Steve** : Hey, Becca said that you weren't going in today. Are you all right?  
**Me** : yeah. ive got an appt to keep  
**Steve** : Okay. Mind if I go in anyway?  
**Me** : sure. if you want. becs would like to see you  
**Steve** : Well, I'll try and be a good stand in for her brother :)

\--

“Oh my god, Steve,” Becca groaned, dropping her controller to drop her head into her hands. 

“I told you, I'm just not getting it,” Steve said, laughing at her frustration. 

“You learnt how to use a phone, you can learn how to use a controller!” She said, words muffled by her hands. 

“Or maybe I'm just that bad?” Steve pointed out, dropping his controller next to her leg. On screen, the kitchen continued to burn as the clock counted down, Steve's character surrounded by dropped ingredients. 

“You wanted to give it a go,” Becca said, glaring through her fingers at him. 

“You said it was fun!”

“It is fun! When you use the brain I know you have!”

“Do video games usually make people this mad?” 

“YES. OR IT'S NOT FUN!” Becca said, her usually pale face blotchy with red. Steve couldn't help himself, he doubled over in his chair laughing. He could feel tears stinging in his eyes, and that made him laugh harder. 

He nearly didn't hear the click of a camera over his laughter, but once he calmed down enough to look back over to Becca, she was sending the photos to Bucky. 

“You know, it's not very good blackmail if you give it away to other people,” Steve said, nudging her with his foot. 

“Just showing him what he's missing out on,” Becca said, grinning at him. “Ready to try again?”

Steve grabbed his controller, awkwardly arranging his fingers. “Sure. Let's run this completely improbable restaurant.” 

Becca laughed knowingly. “You haven't even gotten to the iceberg levels yet.”

Steve stared at her. “The what?”

Becca winked, and restarted the level. 

\--

 **Bucky** : hey i cant make it tonight. can we reschedule for the weekend?  
**Me** : Of course, but are you okay? Becca and I haven't seen you this week.  
**Bucky** : _typing..._  
**Bucky** : _typing..._  
**Bucky** : _typing..._  
**Me** : You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, I'm just worried.  
**Bucky** : ill explain on the weekend?  
**Me** : If you want to. That's the important part.  
**Bucky** : thanks steve. i appreciate that.  
**Me** : You're not in any danger, are you?  
**Bucky** : calm down cap, nothing you can throw your shield at here

\--

Steve shrugged his jacket on as he stepped out of the elevator into the garage. Tony, thankfully, hadn't blocked off the entire entrance with his ridiculous amount of cars, this time anyway. He headed to his bike, giving the seat a fond pat. 

“Going somewhere?” Said Clint from the rafters. Steve nearly jumped straight out of his skin.

“Jesus, Barton,” he said, hand on his heart to stop it from racing. 

Clint dropped onto the floor, grinning. “Sorry, man. Lot of people don't look up,” he said, walking over to Steve. 

“Including me, apparently.” Steve's heart was still pounding. He had been mentally out the door and down the street, he had not been prepared to be dragged forcefully back here. 

“You're going out?” Clint asked again, his pose relaxed. This wasn't Nat, peering into his soul to try and extract his secrets. This was Barton, friendly and open. Both very effective ways of interrogation, when done in the right circumstances. Steve was trying not to think that way, considering that Clint was more open with him in turn. 

“Yeah, I'm seeing Bucky. Heading to his friend's bar again.”

Clint grinned, and raised his hands. He made a few signs, slowly, for Steve's benefit, and Steve concentrated. “Remember...remember what I showed you?”

 _Yes!_ Clint signed, grinning. 

“Thanks for showing me that again, though I really had no idea you were-” Steve started, but stopped when Clint raised a hand. Steve raised an eyebrow at him, and Clint grinned, waving his hands in Steve's face. 

_Thank you_ , Steve signed. 

_No problem_ , Clint replied. 

“I really didn't know that you were deaf, though. I would've asked sooner, if I had,” Steve said. 

“That does raise the question of what you thought my hearing aids were,” Clint said, with a grin. 

Steve laughed, mostly at himself. “The Commandos used to point out that unless it was battlefield strategy, I could be remarkably unobservant.”

“They may have had a point,” Clint said, and Steve noted the gentle tone. He probably thought Steve was in mourning for them, grieving them. In truth, Steve hadn't looked up what happened to any of them, partially still in denial they could be anything but alive and well. “We gonna get a chance to meet the mysterious Bucky?” 

Subject change, probably again for Steve's benefit. Steve went with it. 

“I'm not sure we're at that stage yet. We're really just getting to know each other,” Steve said, and then blanched when he realised how that sounds. “I mean as friends.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Clint's grin was knowing and evil. “We can't tag along when you go see the sister?” 

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, all of the Avengers descending on a hospital to see one person,” Steve said drily. 

“Not all of them. Thor's god-knows-where-”

“Asgard, I'd imagine.”

“Bruce can come, Nat will obviously be there. Tony's definitely out-” Steve laughed. “-even if he wasn't Iron Man he'd be out. Though he'd be a great distraction while the rest of us sneak in.” 

“I'll keep it in mind. I know Becca would love to meet you guys. I just want to make sure they'll be safe afterwards,” Steve said. 

Clint seemed to sober at that, and Steve wondered at it. “Yeah. Yeah, they are still civilians.” He seemed so thoughtful that Steve was concerned that Loki had somehow snuck in and gotten control of him again. “Well. Don't let me keep you.” 

Clint slapped him on the back, and turned to go. Steve watched him leave with a small amount of confusion, though made sure his face was neutral when Clint spun back around again. 

_See you later_ , Clint signed. 

Steve grinned. _Yes_. 

\--

 **Me** : Am I early? We did say 6pm, right?  
**Bucky** : ...i may have overslept. gimme 20, ill be there  
**Me** : It's okay if you want to reschedule again.  
**Bucky** : no no its ok. sometimes my alarm doesnt go off  
**Me** : Okay. I'll order you a beer? Not the grapefruit one, of course.  
**Bucky** : god anything but that. see you soon  
**Me** : :)

\--

“Sorry, sorry, I'm here,” Bucky said, dropping into the booth beside Steve. Steve couldn't help the flood of relief he felt.

“Hey, it's fine. I overslept 70 years, half an hour is nothing,” he said, passing him a bottle. 

Bucky looked at the label, smiled, and took a drink. “Good choice.”

“I had help,” Steve admitted. Bucky chuckled. 

“They have the unfortunate problem of knowing me too well.” 

“Sounds like a problem I wouldn't mind having,” Steve said. Maybe slightly too genuinely, if Bucky's reaction was anything to go by. Once he'd stopped coughing, Steve patting his back awkwardly, he turned a strangely vulnerable look at Steve. It made Steve's heart drop. 

“Anyway,” Bucky said, looking away from Steve. Steve kept his hand on his back. 

“Anyway,” he agreed. 

“How's the bullet wounds?” Bucky asked, and Steve grinned. 

He lifted his shirt, showing perfectly healed skin, with no hint of a scar. “See for yourself.”

Bucky's cheeks were dusted with pink. “Any excuse to get your shirt off, Rogers?” He said, and Steve was thrilled by how strained his tone was. 

“And show off the abs I didn't have to work to get? Absolutely,” Steve said, dropping his shirt. 

Bucky groaned. “Was that a pun?”

“Might've been.”

Bucky groaned louder, and Steve laughed. 

\--

 **Becca** : hes not going to judge you. in fact he'll probs relate  
**Me** : its not that im worried about  
**Becca** : then what is?  
**Me** : i dont want to be someone else for him to worry about  
**Becca** : u r such a hypocrite  
**Me** : wow. thanks.  
**Becca** : you go around to him to me, to fucking everyone taking on their problems  
**Becca** : yet u think that other ppl cant handle urs?  
**Becca** : do elise and thistle even no?  
**Me** : becs  
**Becca** : im serious buck. telling other peple is not weakness  
**Becca** : telling steve will be a good thing. having him on ur side is a good thing  
**Me** : and if im not ready? to tell him  
**Becca** : theres a difference between not being ready and being scared  
**Becca** : u gotta figure out which one it is

\--

Steve was drumming his fingers on the table when Bucky sat back down, and he gave Bucky a warm smile. It did very little to alleviate the feeling of dread in his stomach. 

Becca's text hung over his head like a portent of doom. Was he not ready, or was he just scared? And was he scared because he didn't want Steve to worry, or because Steve might judge him? 

God, he didn't even want to be in his own brain, how could he let Steve in? 

“I have a question,” Steve said suddenly, and Bucky realised that he'd been silently staring daggers into the table. He looked up at Steve, trying to look more casual than he felt. “You don't have to answer if you don't want.”

“I won't know that until you ask it,” Bucky said, leaning his elbow on the table. 

“I wanted you to be sure,” Steve said, leaning a little closer to him. Bucky didn't know if he wanted to lean in too, or flinch away. He took the middle ground and did nothing.

“Okay. Fire away?” He said. Steve gave him a long, searching look, and Bucky could feel a rush of warmth in his face. 

“How did you lose your arm?” Steve asked, in a gentle tone. 

Bucky turned away, taking a long drink out of his third beer. It did very little to quench the combination of fear and panic and guilt that flooded through him. 

“I'm sorry, that was too-” Steve started, and Bucky felt him slide away from him. 

“No, no, it was going to come up eventually. I mean, you don't really misplace your arm,” Bucky said, wincing at his weak voice. He had been aiming to joke. 

“Not that I've heard,” Steve said, and Bucky felt his hand settle on his back, and leaned a little into it. Steve's thumb stroked along his spine. 

“It is part of the reason I haven't been around much,” Bucky admitted. “I've been trying to decide if I want to say anything.” 

“You don't have to. Sometimes it hurts more,” Steve said. 

Bucky shook his head. “It's not...maybe it's partially that. But the real thing is-” He sighed, and leaned back against the seat, Steve's hand moving from his back. “Becca and I, we really only had each other once she got sick. And then I was overseas, and I couldn't be there for her. I went back and forth, every time I had leave, but for the bulk of it she was on her own. Every time I called, she needed a shoulder. So I was that for her. I took on all of her fears and worries, trying to make it easier for her.”

“And you stopped telling her yours,” Steve said, softly. 

Bucky nodded. “After that, it was just habit. Keep my own shit to myself, help everyone else. I thought that was better, in the long run. Besides, my life wasn't so bad. Until-” Bucky waved at his left shoulder. 

“Eight years is a long time to be in a war zone, Buck. A lot of time spent internalising things,” Steve said, and his hand moved to Bucky's shoulder. 

“Yeah, that's what my therapist says,” Bucky said, chuckling darkly. Steve's hand tightened on his shoulder. “I- I just don't want to unload on you-”

“Bucky, Buck. No,” Steve cut him off, and then there was a hand on his cheek, gently turning his head so he was looking at Steve. He looked so earnest, and soft, and good. Bucky swallowed helplessly. “It's not about unloading, and especially not about burdening someone. We're friends, right?” 

Bucky nodded, and very forcefully did not shiver when Steve's thumb swept across his cheekbone. 

“Okay, well, friends share the good and the bad. You don't have to tell me the whole story, or anything at all. But if you need someone to listen, to be your shoulder, you got me,” Steve said. 

How did you breathe? How did that work again? How did you do anything, but drown in the blue of Steve Rogers' eyes?

“Bucky?” Steve questioned gently, dropping his hand from Bucky's face to his right shoulder, and Bucky's lungs forcefully expanded.

“You, uh, you say that to all the armless vets you meet?” He said, his voice breathy and weak, his entire body curved towards Steve like he was the fucking sun. 

Steve laughed. “Just the ones who use my shield like they've been doing it for years.” His eyes were bright and joyful. 

Bucky wanted to kiss him. 

Instead, he dropped his head, and took a breath. Steve's hands slipped from his shoulders, and without thinking, Bucky took one, entwining their fingers. He heard Steve's stuttered breath. 

“I made a bad call, strategically. To save someone's life,” Bucky said after a moment, and looked up. Steve was watching him with patient and kind eyes. 

“Sounds like the right call to me,” he said, gentle still, but unwaveringly sure. 

“You would say that,” Bucky said, smiling. 

Steve shrugged, unrepentant. “Lots of things can be fixed, re-strategised. You can't take back someone's life.”

Bucky's hand tightened around Steve's fingers, and Steve's thumb stroked down his in response. 

“Wish you'd been around to say that to my superiors. If I hadn't- if I still had a left arm, they probably would've hauled me into a court martial.”

“Unfairly so.”

Bucky laughed, hollowly. “They weren't wrong. It wasn't my call to make. But they were getting close to Amira's position, and it was either let them gun him down, or move. I chose to move.” 

“And they saw you?” 

“Well,” Bucky said, with an affected shrug. “They saw my left arm.”

Steve's other hand moved to the left shoulder, just to hold it gently. 

Bucky breathed, asking himself how he has anything left inside him except emotions at this point. 

“I'm still back there sometimes. Some weeks are better than others, some are worse. Sometimes I wake up, and I don't know where I am, or where my arm is. Those...those are the worst,” Bucky says, staring at the zipper of Steve's brown leather jacket. 

The silence sat between them for a moment, and then Steve coughed a little. Clearing his throat. “I run pretty hot. Since the serum, I- well, even in the Alps I never felt cold. But sometimes...” Bucky looked up at him. 

Steve met his eyes, and Bucky saw himself reflected in them.

“Sometimes I can still feel the ice crashing through the window, the water rushing over me, and I can't get warm enough,” Steve said, so quiet. 

Bucky let go of Steve's hand, and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, tugging him close. He grabbed the back of Steve's jacket, his hand making a fist, his chin resting on Steve's shoulder. Steve gasped, and then wrapped both his arms around Bucky's waist, burying his face in Bucky's neck. 

When they broke apart, neither of them moved back too far, Steve's hands on Bucky's knee and shoulder, Bucky's resting on Steve's forearm.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! i would say life got busy but all that happened was i read a really good fic and was like why do i evEN WRITE- 
> 
> but my love for Bucky, Becca and Steve are deep and unending and they will not be denied!  
> this chapter contains probably the only Avengers: Endgame reference this story (and its sequel) will ever have.

**Rebecca B** : So I have a gift for you.  
**Me** : You didn't have to do that, Becca!  
**Rebecca B** : Oh, believe me, I do. It's something that I know you will treasure.  
**Me** : I hope you didn't spend too much on it?  
**Rebecca B** : It cost me nothing in terms of money, but it may cost me my life.  
**Me** : Well, now I'm concerned.  
**Rebecca B** : Oh, don't be. It will be a good death.  
**Rebecca B** : Here you go:  
_Rebecca B has sent a picture message_  
**Me** : I say this with my whole entire chest, Becca:  
**Me** : Thank you, and holy shit

\--

Bucky and Steve walked into Becca's room together, still arguing. 

“You didn't have to do that, I was seconds away from getting my wallet out,” Steve was saying, gesturing with his coffee, frowning at Bucky. Bucky laughed, honestly enjoying thwarting Steve's attempts at being a gentleman. 

“You paid for drinks the other night, I pay for coffee this morning,” he said, grinning brightly at him. 

“If I remember right, you paid for drinks,” Steve said, giving him a very stern look that Bucky definitely did not imagine being used on him in very different situations. 

“Did I? Well, you can get me next time,” Bucky said breezily, walking up to Becca's bed. 

“Are you going to give me a chance?” Steve muttered, but Bucky could hear the smile. 

Bucky placed his coffee on the bedside table, then grabbed Becca's foot over the covers, wiggling it, until she looked up from her phone with a polite but disinterested smile on her face. Bucky frowned. “What, we not good enough for you now?” He said, tapping her ankle. 

“Hey, I was just waiting for you to stop flirting,” Becca said in a perfectly neutral tone that did not match the glint of mischief in her eye. Bucky gave her a look, but they both looked behind him at the choked noise Steve made. He coughed, wincing a little, before gesturing to his coffee with an apologetic look.

“Coffee's hot,” he wheezed. Bucky tried very hard not to laugh at that. 

Once Steve had finished nearly-dying, he took his usual chair at Becca's side, and Bucky sat at the foot of the bed. He was about to ask Becca how her latest treatment had gone, having been implemented yesterday, but his words stopped when he saw the look she shared with Steve. Becca looked far too pleased, and more than a little knowing, and Steve grinned back, a bright blush on his cheeks. 

“Good, huh?” Becca said. Bucky frowned. 

“And it's real? That really happened?” Steve asked, incredulously. Bucky frowned harder. 

Becca nodded. “He was really serious about it too,” she said, giggling. Okay, forget frowning, Bucky was seconds away from his entire face collapsing in on itself.

“Okay, what's the great joke I'm missing out on?” He asked, mostly at Becca, who he knew was the instigator. 

She bit her lip, and looked back at Steve, who shrugged with a laugh. “I really don't think I can help you out of this one,” he said. 

“I mean, he doesn't have to know,” she said, wheedling. 

“True, though he will know we're keeping it from him,” Steve pointed out. 

“Okay, I am ten seconds from throttling you both,” Bucky said, this time looking pointedly at Steve. 

Steve took a sip from his coffee, and leaned back in his chair. “I'm just curious about something,” he said, as breezily as Bucky had been earlier. Becca snorted. 

“About?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Would you grow your hair out that long again?” Steve asked, titling his head just a little. 

“Grow my hair-?” Bucky repeated, confused, until something clicked in his memory, and he turned to look at Becca, fully engaging what she had termed at age 12 as his 'murder eyes'. 

Becca shrank back against her pillows, feigning fear, but she was biting her lip to hold back laughter. “You can't hit me, I'm in a hospital bed.”

“What did you show him, Rebecca?” His voice was steely, his pulse pounding in his ears. Surely, after the conversation they'd had the other day, she wouldn't have. Wouldn't go behind his back and show Steve anything from- 

“It was only fair! You got photos of him ugly laughing! I had to even the field!” Becca implored, pointing at Steve.

“I am not involved in this,” Steve said, laughing into his coffee cup. 

“Which. Ones. Rebecca.” Bucky stood up so he could loom over his traitor little sister. She leaned further back into her pillows, shoulders shaking with the effort not to laugh out loud. Fine. He didn't need her to answer. He grabbed her phone turning away from her quickly as she made a weak attempt to grab it back. 

He's known her phone password for years, and so opened her message app, hit Steve's number, and groaned in physical pain. 

Bucky, age 17, glares at the camera. Long haired, eyes lined with black, dressed head to toe in leather. 

“Becca!” He whined. 

“See, I told you it would end in my death,” Becca said, clearly to Steve. 

Steve laughed. “Then I can't feel sympathy.”

Bucky whirled around, giving Steve his biggest imploring eyes. “Please, please, forgive me. I was young. I thought I was cool.”

Steve laughed again, and the smile he gave Bucky would've been breathtaking if he wasn't minutes away from killing his sister. “It's very cool. Even a little bit cute.”

“Seventeen year old Bucky would murder you for that,” Becca said, then snorted when Bucky turned his glare back on her.

“Seventeen year old Bucky and current Bucky have something in common then.” Bucky hisses at her. 

“I think Steve would like it if they also had long hair in common,” Becca said, grinning impishly. 

Steve choked on his coffee again, this time some managed to drip onto his white t-shirt. “Damn it,” he muttered to himself, and Bucky was not going to be deterred from his fury by how endearing that was. 

“How am I supposed to come back from this, Becca? You have tarnished my reputation. You have slandered me to my good friend Captain America,” he said, throwing her phone on the bed so he could put his hand on his hip. 

Becca was entirely unmoved, which irritated Bucky to no end. “Steve thought it was great,” she said. 

Bucky looked at Steve in utter betrayal. “Why would you side with her?” 

Steve's smile was back, even with his shirt coffee stained. “We didn't really have 'goth phases' in the 20's and 30's. Consider it her teaching me about modern customs,” he said, and the smile turned into a smirk. 

“Oh god. I should've known,” Bucky said, lowering himself onto the bed. He put his head in his hand. “You're both shit-stirrers.” 

The laughter he got from the both of them was answer enough, though it cut off quickly when Becca groaned. Immediately Bucky was up on his feet and hovering over his sister. 

Becca was bent double, hand clutching her stomach. Bucky's hand hovered over her, not sure what to do, panic nearly overtaking him. Steve took the initiative, thank god, and hit the button to call a nurse. 

“Becs, Becs, look at me. What's wrong?” Bucky heard the frantic tone in his voice, and willed himself not to let it out again. He wouldn't break in front of her. He was going to be strong for her, like always. 

Steve's hand was suddenly on his back, a warming and steady presence. 

Becca looked up at Bucky, grimacing in pain. “I- it's just-” she gasped. 

“It's okay, you don't have to say anything. Talia's probably on her way,” Bucky soothed, gripping his sister's shoulder. Steve's hand tightened a little on his back. 

“I'm- insulted, Buck,” Becca said, and Bucky was suddenly back in a state of confusion. “I can't believe yo-you would say that.” Her voice was breathy and full of pain, and her words did not make a lick of sense. “I'm obviously a hell-raiser, not a shit-stirrer,” she said, dropping her head onto his hand. 

Bucky's laugh was sudden, but at least felt genuine. “Of course you are. You both are,” he said, turning to look at Steve. “Fucking hell-raisers, the both of you.” 

Steve laughed, but it was short. 

They both hovered over Becca until the nurse ran in, then they moved back to the wall, Bucky watching with no small amount of fear as more nurses and a doctor rushed in. 

Steve's hand dropped from his back, but before Bucky could allow a small part of his brain to regret the loss, the same hand was tangling with his fingers. Bucky gripped it tight, not taking his eyes off Becca.

Steve's thumb brushed along his, and he allowed himself to feel the smallest bit of comfort. 

\--  
**Me** : I'm sorry, I really am. I'll be back in a few days, I swear  
**Me** : Call me? If anything happens?  
**Me** : Okay, I'll be out of contact for now. Three days, then I'll be back.  
**Me** : Bucky? I'm back in contact now. Any news?  
**Me** : Bucky, is Becca okay? You can just text back a yes or no.  
**Me** : Can I call you?  
**Me** : I'm back in New York. I can come by the hospital today?  
**Me** : I'm here. If you need me.  
\--

“You stare at that thing any harder and you're going to burn a hole through it,” Nat's voice said, and Steve started. 

He was doing that a lot lately, wasn't he? 

He looked up from his phone, offering her a weak smile. “Waiting on news,” he said by way of explanation, waving the phone he had been staring at. Nat offered him a sympathetic half-smile, walking across the common room to drop onto the couch beside him, 

“Nothing?” She asked. 

He shook his head, and sighed. “I shouldn't have left,” he said, his voice regretful. 

“Hey, you know he'd understand. Becca too. World still needs Captain America,” Nat said, nudging him with her shoulder. 

“Funnily enough, that isn't as reassuring as you think it is.” Steve turned a grim smile on her.

“I know you feel like you let them down, but you didn't,” Nat insisted, leaning forward to be in Steve's eyeline. He tried not to make eye contact. “What would you have done if you were there?”

“Been there for him, Nat. Like a friend,” he said, maybe a little harsher than he meant. 

Nat opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, apparently thinking better of it. Instead, she slid her hand through Steve's. He gripped it, reminded of the way he did the same for Bucky. 

“If we're offering physical affection, I can definitely be a part of that,” Clint's voice said, before the entirety of the man was draped over Steve's shoulders. Steve could not help the laugh that burst out of him. 

“You are a child, Barton,” he said, shrugging until the archer puddled onto the couch on the other side of him. 

Clint shrugged, winking at Nat. “What's going on?” he asked. 

“Steve's friend took a turn for the worse before Mexico,” Nat explained briskly. Clint nodded, his look becoming serious. He sat up, sitting next to Steve properly. 

“No news, I'm guessing?” Steve nodded. “Better head over there yourself, then.” 

“Yeah, I thought of doing that,” Steve said, leaning his elbow on his knee, hand still clutching his phone. 

“What's stopping you?” Nat asked, gripping his hand a little tighter. 

Steve sighed, and looked at his phone. “I don't know what I'm going to find,” he admitted. 

There was a beat of silence, and Steve looked up to see the two spies exchanging looks in a silent conversation. 

“We'll come with you,” Clint said, after they seemed to come to a decision. 

Steve was not ready for the flood of comfort that gave him. They really were his friends, he was surprised to find. “You don't have to do that,” he said, but smiled at them both. 

“True. But we want to,” Nat said, that confident little half-smile teasing at her lips. 

“We won't even come inside, if you like. We'll just wait for you,” Clint said, gripping Steve's shoulder. 

And really, Steve couldn't refuse an offer that generous. 

“I'll take my bike, you guys follow me in?” Steve said, and Nat nodded. 

All three stood as one, and moved towards the elevator, Steve stopping to grab his keys and jacket, all the while hoping the news wouldn't be bad. 

\--  
**Me** : Buck, I don't know if you're getting these, but I'm coming today.  
**Me** : Whatever you need, I've got you.  
**Me** : Til the end of- _deletedeletedelete_  
\--

True to their word, Clint and Nat parked a little ways back from the hospital, and leaned on the car, waiting for him to come back. Steve gripped their shoulders in thanks, and headed in. 

Keshini the receptionist and Lucy the guard both looked relieved to see him, ushering him upstairs immediately, which set Steve's heart racing, and made him wish that the elevator was as fast as the one at the Tower. 

Once he was on floor four, he practically ran to Becca's room, his heart sinking to find it empty of both Becca and a bed. He walked in anyway, to see Bucky, still in the same clothes as three days ago, head in his hand, slumped into a chair in the corner. 

“Buck,” he called softly, heading to him. 

Bucky jerked upright, and it hurt to see the shocked look on his face. “Steve! I thought you were...captaining?” He said, and the hurt in Steve's chest worsened at the deep shadows under his eyes. 

“I got back in this morning, I sent you messages?” Steve said, kneeling in front of Bucky. There was a fine tremble running through Bucky's entire body, and Steve's heart began to physically ache. 

Bucky frowned. “Messages? I didn't get any-” he said, sounding a little lost. He pulled out his phone, and pressed the home button. The screen remained black. “Oh. It...must've run out of battery.” He stowed it back in his pocket, and turned an apologetic look at Steve. “I'm sorry. God, you must've been freaking out.” 

“A little,” Steve admitted. “I was worried about you both.” 

“I'm fine,” Bucky said dismissively, but Steve could see in every movement the exhaustion that weighed on him. 

“Then how's Becca?” Steve asked, not wanting to add to Bucky's stress, but still needing to know. 

Bucky's head dropped back into his hand, and Steve reached up to rest his hand on Bucky's forearm. “She's still in Intensive Care. Haven't heard anything since yesterday.” 

“What's the latest word then?” Steve asked. 

“Bad, but not the end. Which is the usual report,” Bucky said, his voice toneless. 

The usual report, until it's not, Steve guessed. His stomach joined his heart in physical pain. 

“I'll wait with you,” he said, and Bucky looked up enough to give him a very sad look. 

“You don't have to do that,” he said, in that same toneless voice. 

Fuck that. 

Steve leaned up enough to wrap both his arms around Bucky, one hand on his back, the other on the nape of his neck. “Probably not. I'm going to anyway,” he said, half into Bucky's hair. 

Bucky didn't move for a long moment, but then Steve felt his jacket tug down, and could almost feel the fabric strain in the fist Bucky was making in it. 

“Thank you,” Bucky whispered, sounding weak and grateful. Steve tightened his grip on him. 

\--

Neither Bucky or Steve moved from the embrace until Talia coughed from the door, and even then Bucky was loathe to let Steve go, even as his head shot up to look at her. Steve whirled as well, and Bucky was suddenly overwhelmed by how grateful he was for him. 

“Go home, Bucky,” Talia said, with a stern, worried look. 

“What if she- I need to be here,” Bucky said, sounding stubborn but feeling lost. Terribly lost. 

“We will call. The second she's being moved. But for now, you need sleep. And a shower, and a real meal,” Talia said, a little more forcefully. “You're not doing her any good by sitting there, and she would kill you the second she knew that's all you'd been doing,” she continued, when Bucky tried to argue. 

“I can take him home,” Steve said, and Bucky was almost wounded that he wasn't on his side. 

“There you go, Bucky. Ride home and everything. Get,” Talia said to him, and then turned to Steve. “Make sure he takes care of himself.” 

“I will,” Steve said, sounding as serious as if he was taking an oath. 

Talia nodded at him, approving, pointed sternly at Bucky, then left. 

Bucky leaned back into the chair. “You're gonna have to drag me out of here,” he protested. 

Steve gave him a sad smile, then wrapped both his arms around Bucky again. Bucky nearly fell back into the hug, thinking he'd won, and then found himself easily moved upright, his feet only just touching the ground as Steve stood at his full height. 

“Cheating,” Bucky said, weakly, once Steve set him on his feet. He stumbled slightly, Steve easily catching him.

Maybe Talia had a point. 

“Maybe I just want to see your place,” Steve joked, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. Bucky could read the worry there, and knew it matched his own. 

“Double cheating,” Bucky muttered, with no heat. He leaned into Steve. “Take me home, then. If you must.” 

Steve wrapped an arm around him, and they headed into the elevator, Bucky feeling more and more with every step that he was making a mistake. 

“What if something happens and I don't get here on time?” Bucky said, looking at the ground like it held the answer. 

“I have a friend who flies. You'll get here,” Steve promised, with that same total conviction. 

Bucky looked up, and was surprised to see the fire in Steve's eyes. “I think that's an illegal use of your Avengers membership,” he said, though his heart thudded in his chest at how righteously Steve was looking at him. 

“What's the point of having superhero friends if you can't use them?” Steve said, smiling warmly. 

Bucky smiled, weakly, but it was there. 

He didn't have anything else to say, but was surprised when Steve lead them out of the hospital the opposite direction of the train station. His confusion only deepened when two people, leaning on a sleek black car, waved at Steve. 

“We're gonna need a lift to Bucky's,” Steve said rather than greeting the two when they were close enough. He then grimaced slightly. “This is Bucky,” he said, and gestured at him, Bucky snorting a little. 

“Hey. I'm Nat,” said the red-headed woman, holding out her hand. Bucky took it, and was surprised by how strong a grip her lithe hand had. “Nice to meet you, finally.” 

“Wish it was better circumstances,” the man said, a sympathetic smile on his face. Once Nat dropped Bucky's hand, he offered his. “I'm Clint.” 

“They're my other friends,” Steve said, and Bucky caught the meaning. Wow. Additional Avengers knew about Bucky's existence. 

“What're you doing about your bike?” Clint asked Steve, once he had dropped Bucky's hand. 

“I'll ride it to Bucky's. You two ride with Clint, then Clint and I can head back home,” Nat said quickly. Strategic, like Steve, then. 

“You're okay with that?” Steve asked, and Bucky looked up to meet his gaze. Steve's hand rubbed comfortingly down his arm, and Bucky was strangely surprised that neither of them had pulled away from each other since Bucky first leaned into him. 

“Makes the most amount of sense. I don't want you leaving your bike unattended. It's a really nice bike,” Bucky said, a smile lifting his lips for a moment. 

Steve smiled softly back, and then nodded at Nat, tossing her his keys. She caught them, and turned to leave. 

“Don't you need my address? In case we get split up?” Bucky called, before she got too far. 

Nat looked over her shoulder. “It's okay. I'm sure I'll find my way.” She smiled, and kept walking. 

Bucky frowned. “Does...she already know my address?” 

“Probably. She knows too much about everything,” Clint said, and didn't sound remotely apologetic. 

It was Bucky's turn to nod then, though his was more out of concern. “Right. That's a common thing for her?” 

“I didn't know she looked you up, Buck. I'm sorry. I can promise that she won't tell anyone,” Steve said, rubbing Bucky's arm again. 

“It's fine. I mean, it's not fine, but it's done, and I can't really spare anything to react properly right now,” Bucky said, somewhat dazed. 

“Right. Let's get you home,” Steve said, and directed Bucky into the car, leaving his side (Bucky missing the loss) to round the car. Clint slid into the driver's seat, and Steve sat in the back with Bucky. 

“What is your address? I don't actually know it,” Clint said, turning around to smile at Bucky. 

Bucky wasn't sure if that was a lie, but rattled it off anyway. Clint plugged it into the GPS, and then started out in the traffic, heading for Brooklyn. 

Bucky wasn't sure how much time passed before he stopped looking out the window, regret at leaving the hospital near overwhelming, before he had the sudden urge to look at Steve. Steve was looking down at his hands, and he seemed to have that same look in his eyes, like the further they got from Becca, the worse the news would be. 

Steve really cared for her. For them both. It was clear. 

Bucky twisted to his left as far as the seat and seat belt would let him, and reached out with his hand to take Steve's. Steve looked up at him, soft and sad and caring. He laced their fingers together. 

“It's gonna be all right, Buck,” he said, and Bucky could almost believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes things have to get worse before they get better...


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here comes bucky's tragic backstory...oh boy
> 
> (i know in comics bucky only had one sister, but apparently mcu bucky was the eldest of four, so...)

Steve didn't drop Bucky's hand the whole drive to his apartment, but didn't try and say anything else. Bucky's head had slumped against the car seats and his eyes looked very far away. Clint also remained quiet, truly a shock, and Steve was grateful for him. And Nat. He hadn't even realised how good of friends they actually were.

He certainly knew now.

“Where's a good place to park, Bucky?” Clint asked, once they were close to Bucky's place.

“Uh?” Bucky said, sitting up. He looked dazed. “Uh, there's- I think down the side? That street,” he said, pointing to the one in question on the GPS. Clint followed the instructions, parking down the alley next to a rather nice apartment block. Steve squeezed Bucky's hand once, before dropping it to get out of the car, rounding it quickly. He got to the other door just as Bucky got out, and Steve took his hand again.

“Pretty sure I'm parked illegally,” Clint commented, squinting down the alley once he was out of the car too.

“What are they gonna do, give an Avenger a parking ticket?” Bucky said, and got a laugh out of both Clint and Steve, though Steve could hear how worn Bucky's voice was.

“You think that excuse would work? I haven't really got a famous face,” Clint pondered, rubbing his chin.

“Probably for the best,” Steve said, smiling at him. “It's a big trade-off for getting out of fines.”

“You ever do it?”

“God, no. I'm terrified someone will start singing Star-Spangled Man.” Steve shuddered affectedly.

Bucky huffed in what Steve assumed was a laugh. Steve frowned.

“We'd better get you inside,” he said, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, I'll-” Bucky said, on a sigh. “I'll call you, once my phone's charged.”

Steve's frown deepened, even as his heart twinged painfully. “Do you want me to go?”

Bucky shrugged. “I assumed you had something better to do.”

“Bucky,” Steve said gently, stepping around him to be in front. “That's not what I asked.”

Bucky looked up at him. He looked tired, in that bone-deep way. “I know your time isn't your own.”

Steve weirdly bristled at that. Not because he was insulted by that, but by the idea that Bucky thought if he had the choice, Steve wouldn't choose him. And Becca. “Yeah, right now it's yours,” he said, maybe a little too forcefully.

“Steve,” Bucky said, low. Steve squeezed his hand again.

“Do you want me to go? I can come back tomorrow, or just meet you at the hospital. But I would rather be here,” he said quietly. A shudder rippled through Bucky.

“I'd rather you here, too,” he said finally, quietly. Steve nodded, stepping into him to hug him one handed.

“Then I'm here.”

Nat came around the corner then, riding the bike up onto the sidewalk. Steve stepped away from Bucky to give her a look, that she simply grinned at, swinging off the bike with more grace than Steve ever could.

“Oh, good. She also doesn't wear a helmet,” Bucky commented, drily. “What's your excuse?” He called out to Nat, and Steve smiled to himself.

“I'm just that good,” Nat said, corner of her mouth lifted mischievously. She tossed Steve's keys back to him. “Parking's impossible around here.”

“One of the many reasons I don't drive,” Bucky said.

“Smart,” Nat said, smirking. She dropped it after a moment, giving him a very sincere look, that Steve was incredibly grateful for. “You need anything, Bucky, let Steve know, and we can sort it out,” she said.

“Yeah. And once Becca's feeling better, we'd love to meet you properly,” Clint added, and Steve moved so that Bucky could see him again. Nat moved to the passenger side of the car.

“Yeah. Yeah, she'd love that,” Bucky said. He dropped Steve's hand, to hold his out to Clint once more. Clint grabbed it, shaking it earnestly.

“It really was good putting a face to the name,” Clint said warmly.

“Seconded,” Nat said, smiling at Bucky. He saluted at them both. “Keep us in the loop, Steve.” She got into the car, Clint following her lead, and Steve lead Bucky out of the mouth of the alley and closer to his bike, so they could back out.

Nat waved at them through the window, and then the sleek black car was peeling away, diving back into afternoon traffic.

“You should probably move your bike,” Bucky said after a moment.

Steve shrugged. “Who's gonna give Captain America a parking ticket?” He said, shrugging.

Bucky looked up at him, a near-smile on his lips. “It'll get towed.”

Steve shrugged again. “I got other priorities. I don't want to bring the wrath of Becca or Talia down upon us if you don't get some rest.”

Bucky huffed a laugh again. “Right. Well. Follow me,” he said, heading into the building, tugging Steve along by their joined hands.

Steve was suddenly struck by how ordinary it felt to just hold Bucky's hand, in broad daylight, where anyone could see them. It wasn't a busy street, but there were a line of cars right there, anyone one of the drivers could see them, assume something. He really was free to just...be. Or, at least, he could give that more thought when he wasn't so worried for Bucky and his sister.

He and Bucky headed inside, Bucky calling the elevator, not dropping Steve's hand until they were eight floors up and in front of number seventeen. Even then, he only dropped Steve's hand to fish out his keys and unlock the door, taking it back once the keys were in a dish by the door.

“Welcome,” Bucky said, and Steve stepped inside, looking around in wonder.

It was big, definitely an apartment for a family. The hallway led out into a living and dining room, two couches in a corner with a TV, mismatched chairs around a wooden dining table, and shelves full of books, photos, knick-knacks along every wall.

“Wow,” Steve said, looking around in wonder. “It's way more lived in than my place.”

“Yeah, well. I've lived here pretty much all my life,” Bucky said.

Steve squeezed his hand, let go, and headed to the nearest shelf, where there was framed photographs crammed along it. He picked one up of Bucky and Becca as children, Becca on Bucky's shoulders. They were both laughing hugely, eyes bright. Steve smiled at it. He put it back down, and poked through the other photos, pulling another one forward. This one had Bucky, Becca, two other little girls, and two people who had to be their mother and father. The older woman had Bucky's grey-blue eyes, the man Becca's steel grey.

“Hey, Buck, who're-” Steve started to ask, looking back to Bucky, and then stopped. Bucky had not taken another step into the apartment, and was staring blankly at the opposite wall. Steve left the photo where it was, and stepped back in front of Bucky, resting his hand on his shoulder. “Buck?”

Bucky blinked twice, then his eyes met Steve's. “Kinda zoned out, sorry. Talia may have a had a point about sleeping,” Bucky said, rubbing his face. He sighed.

Steve squeezed his shoulder. “She might've. Do you wanna do that now?” He asked gently.

Bucky huffed. Steve was really beginning to hate that sound. It was a forced laugh like there was a gun to his head. “I should probably shower first.”

“Good idea,” Steve said, squeezing again, before dropping his hand. “I'll keep poking through your belongings.”

“Discovering all my secrets?” Bucky said, and while it didn't reach his eyes, his smile seemed somewhat genuine.

Steve smiled back. “Only fair. You know all of mine.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Bucky said, with a wry grin. Steve shrugged, winking. Bucky huffed a laugh (dear god, Steve wanted to make him laugh properly again), and padded away from Steve, across the room. Steve watched him go, feeling incredibly heavy. Like gravity had turned itself up to 11.

He stopped just before he went down another hall, turning back to face Steve. Steve did his best to seem nonchalant, or at least neutral.

“You're...you're gonna be here? When I get out?” Bucky asked, quietly enough that if he didn't have enhanced hearing, Steve might've missed it.

He didn't, however, and his heart beat was suddenly painful. “Yeah, Buck. I'm not going anywhere,” he said gently.

Bucky nodded, something searching in his look, but before he found what he was looking for, he disappeared. Steve felt his shoulders slump.

It's not like he hadn't dealt with grief before. He lost his entire family well before the war, and there were friends he left behind that he had no idea about. The real thing he was grappling with was that he couldn't just push it down inside this time. Pretend it didn't happen. Break down in private. He had to, if the worst happened, be strong for Bucky. He deserved that, for once, to have someone be his support.

He wondered if that was presumptuous, that Bucky's other friends hadn't tried and failed. Why should Steve succeed?

Steve grinned then, ducking his head into his chest. Well. The reason to that was he is so goddamn stubborn. He'd keep going until Bucky knew.

He heard the shower start, and decided to poke around the apartment, like he said he was going to do. He studied all the photos, and made a note to ask Bucky after Becca was well again (he would think positive for now) who the other people were. There were collections of small porcelain animals, plenty of books that Steve had never heard of, and Steve laughed when he dug out a very old copy of Captain America #43. That he put back without flipping through it, but it made him feel warm to see it. Bucky read this, and didn't hold him to that strange standard the rest of the world did.

After a while, he'd exhausted all the obvious things without resorting to being overly nosy, and was planning on just sitting on the couch, maybe cluing Nat and Clint in further than he had. Then a thought popped into his head; Bucky had been at the hospital three days. What had he been eating that whole time? Talia had even said that he should go and get a real meal. Steve was by no means an amazing cook, but he knew how to make some things. Basic things, but real food nonetheless.

He changed course, heading into the kitchen, which was also charmingly cluttered. Someone had something of a habit for collecting novelty chopping boards.

First things first, what was he working with? He opened the fridge, and found the items within not holding much inspiration. Lots of pre-packaged meals, some beer he recognised from Elise and Thistle's, three eggs that weren't even in a container among the random assortment. He shut the door, and checked the freezer, which held an ungodly amount of frozen meals.

Those were definitely out. Bucky was getting real food.

He poked around the cupboards next, finding at least the ingredients for pasta, but frowned at that. Sure, he had spaghetti and sauce, but there was no protein, and certainly no vegetables. Both of those things were readily available today, he didn't have to scrimp or go without.

Right. Maybe some mince, something green to go in it. He had seen a shop on the corner, he could be out and back in minutes-

His stomach swooped painfully when he took one step towards the door, and he looked helplessly at the hall Bucky disappeared down. What if Bucky came back into the room and Steve wasn't there? He'd be understanding, but Steve didn't want to give him any kind of additional stress.

Steve would just work with what he had.

He took out his phone and took photos of the inside of the fridge and cupboards, sending both to Nat with the caption, 'help?'

She took less than 30 seconds to reply.

 **Natasha R** : Fridge, the packets closest to the pink-labelled beer? Pre-made pasta, filled with veg. Go with the red sauce. Should take about ten-fifteen  
**Natasha R** : Instructions are on the pack. Good luck!  
**Me** : Thanks, Nat. Lifesaver.  
**Natasha R** : :)

Okay. Steve can read and follow instructions. He didn't need the serum to do that. He grabbed the pasta Nat pointed out, and the sauce, and studied the labels until he had a good idea of what order to do things in. First things first, pots. He dug through cupboards until he found a medium sized one, and a small. The bigger one got filled with water and set to boil, the second he left to one side for later. Then it was just a matter of waiting for the water to boil, getting the pasta in, and waiting some more.

He was just getting the sauce on the stove to warm it, when he heard soft footsteps heading towards him.

“You cooking for me?” Bucky's voice said, and Steve looked over to see Bucky leaning against the wall, a small soft smile on his face. His hair was wet and pushed back from his head in a style that would've been very dashing in the 40's. Steve smiled back.

“It's more like reheating things in a fancy way. More steps,” he said. “Thought it'd be better for you than whatever you'd been eating at the hospital.”

“Mostly vending machine snacks,” Bucky admitted. “When I did eat.”

Steve turned his head away so that he could grimace without Bucky seeing. God, if he'd been there, he could've gotten Bucky actual food or- it didn't matter anymore. Steve was here now, and he could help now.

“So chips and chocolate? Thank god I found something with vegetables in it,” he said, flashing a grin at Bucky. Bucky's smile widened a little, and he ambled closer, picking up the empty packaging.

“What is it we are having?” he asked, turning the packet over.

“Spinach and ricotta ravioli, according to the pack,” Steve said, and grabbed the empty sauce jar to show Bucky that. “With that on top.”

“How often did you have that in 1930?” Bucky commented, dropping the packet to grab the jar instead. “I see you're making sure I get my veggies, even if they're hidden in the sauce.”

Steve laughed at that. “You're going to eat healthy, even if I have to use subterfuge to do it!” That earned him a nudge from Bucky's left shoulder, but Steve could see the half-smile was still on his face. Steve paused his stirring of the sauce to rest a hand on Bucky's back briefly, trying to encourage that smile to reach the other side of his mouth.

It seemed to actually sober Bucky, and Steve could've kicked himself when he saw his face fall. He went to take his hand back, but then Bucky lent into his side.

Well. Steve could read that instruction too.

He wrapped his arm around Bucky's shoulders, fingers gripping his right. He could still stir the sauce with his left.

They were silent for some time, Bucky's head leaning against's Steve's collarbone, Steve content to just hold him for a while. The timer on Steve's phone, set up so he wouldn't overcook the pasta, went off. Steve dropped the spoon to turn it off, and turned both of the stove tops off.

“Hang on, we gotta test one,” Bucky said, separating from Steve, to take the spoon. Steve stepped back, watching him with a little amusement. Bucky whacked the spoon on the side of the pot twice, getting most of the sauce off, and then dipped it into the pasta pot to retrieve one of the little, pillow-looking things. He brought it up to his mouth, blew on it, then tipped the whole thing into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a few seconds.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

After a few far-too-serious moments of contemplation, Bucky nodded at him. “Yeah, they're cooked. Lemme grab the sieve.” He ducked down to get at the cupboard next to the one where Steve found the pots, and after a moment of what sounded like shoving everything around, he emerged with the correct object.

Steve laughed. “Very dramatic, this pasta business.”

“You don't know the half of it. You just wait till I take you to a real place. They make your pasta from scratch. Every part of it,” Bucky said, giving him another serious look that Steve had to grin at.

“I'd love to see that.”

Bucky's smile was small but warm. “Well. Add it to your list.”

Bucky put the sieve in the sink, and while Steve drained the pasta, grabbed two bowls and two forks. Steve dumped the sauce into the pasta, stirred it around a few times, then divided it up between the bowls.

“Want a beer?” Bucky asked, while Steve stacked dishes and threw away packets.

“Sure,” Steve replied. “Grab them and I'll follow with the food?”

Bucky saluted him, and grabbed two out of the fridge, then headed for the couch. Steve followed, collecting the forks too. He sat next to Bucky, leaving one of the bowls on the coffee table, pushed close for Bucky's benefit, and watched as Bucky tucked a bottle between his thighs, squeezed it tight, and then with one hand, popped the top off.

Steve fought very hard not to blush. It was incredibly inappropriate timing.

Bucky handed him the bottle, and Steve took it with a murmured thanks. Comfortable silence fell between them while they ate for a while, broken when Bucky sat back, half his food gone. “Uncover any secrets?” He asked, leaning against the armrest, quirking an eyebrow at Steve.

“Nothing incriminating, but I lie in wait,” Steve said, using his bottle to tap his nose. Bucky's mouth twitched in a smile. Steve took another drink, steeling himself somewhat. “You don't have to answer this, if you'd rather not talk about it, but when did Becca first get sick?”

Bucky looked so terribly sad that Steve wanted to go back in time and punch himself before he could ask the question. “I'm sorry, I know it's not a good time, it's just- she looks so different in the old photos.”

“No, no, it's fine. It's not really ever a good time,” Bucky said, and he sounded very old and very tired. Steve put his food and beer on the coffee table, the sudden need to free up his hands overwhelming. “She was twelve. I was sixteen. It...well. There was a car accident. Mum, dad. Becca. Nicky and Jenny.”

“The two other girls in the family photo,” Steve said. Bucky nodded. Steve's heart broke. “They didn't make it.”

Bucky shook his head. “They were driving out to Indiana, to visit my grandparents. Dad got tired, or distracted, or whatever. Drove straight into a truck.”

“Fuck,” Steve said, like a punch to the gut.

Bucky took a long drink from his bottle. His face didn't change from the impassive look, but those were definitely tears in his eyes. Steve wanted to gather him into his arms and just fucking hold him, but he didn't know if that would be particularly welcomed right now.

“I was at boxing camp. Didn't hear the news until after they'd died and Becca was fighting for life in hospital. My aunt came and got me, took me straight to the hospital. I sat by her bedside for...god, I don't even remember. Felt like years. Feels like years. She just, didn't get better. Had her first attack 6 months after she got admitted. Before that they thought it was shock, trauma, keeping her injuries bad. Making her weak. Turns out her immune system decided she was the enemy.”

Steve hated how blank he looked. How numb. How much did two people have to suffer before the world decided they'd had enough?

“My aunt was good. Stayed up in the city with me. Helped me keep the apartment. Made sure I got to school, not that it mattered anymore. My whole thing was figuring out how to help Becca. Did all kinds of research, looked up her symptoms and how other people cured them. Didn't find anything worthwhile until I saw that a hospital in Manhattan was doing a trial run on medication to help immune-deficiency disorders.”

“St Lucia's?” Steve guessed.

Bucky raised his beer to him. “Bingo. I contacted them about Becca, got my aunt to back up my claim, and Becca was admitted. Because it was a trial, she got a clear run. Nothing to pay. Thought it was the end, finally.” Bucky shifted so one knee was bent, his foot on the couch cushions. He leaned his elbow on his knee, and his forearm blocked Steve's view of his face.

Steve frowned, worry building in his heart, enough to be painful.

“Trial went well. Thought she would start getting better, even the doctors were optimistic. But then she got worse. Much worse. She had just turned thirteen. She thought she was dying. I thought she was dying. They stopped the meds, got her on something less strong or different, I don't know. All I knew was that one day my sister was okay, they had the answer, and the next they were telling her that her disease was so rare they were considering naming it after her.”

“Bucky,” Steve said on a breath. Like anything louder would physically hurt the man sitting next to him.

“Attacks on and off for the next few years. She seemingly got better and worse at random. Nothing predictable. Even now...” Bucky trailed off, and Steve heard the strangled noise, like he was trying to hold back a sob. Steve's hands itched to hold him, comfort him somehow, do the barest fucking minimum for the man who held onto his sister's life with everything he had. “Even now, twelve years later, they don't know what to do, except stop the attack before it kills her. Before her body can destroy irreplaceable parts of itself. And she's tired, Steve. She's so tired-” The last word was so pained, full of so much pure fucking hurt.

Steve gently took the beer bottle out of Bucky's hand, dropping it onto the coffee table. Bucky lowered his arm, and Steve felt something in him shatter to see the tears pouring silently from his eyes. Bucky's breathing stuttered.

“I can't let her give up. She's all I have left,” he said, whispering. Like it was blasphemy.

Steve felt tears sting in his own eyes. “Then we won't let her,” he said, firmly.

“I keep telling myself that, but how much longer is she expected to fight this?”

“You don't believe that.”

“I-”

“Bucky. You don't believe that. I know you don't. You're still the same brave kid, running around New York trying to find someone good enough to save her. And there is someone out there. We just gotta find them. They're out there.”

Bucky looked up at him, so desolate and yet so hopeful, and Steve wanted nothing more than to pull every single awful thought from his head.

Instead, he pulled Bucky close, wrapping his arms around him as tightly as possible. He felt Bucky's hand curl into the nape of his neck, Bucky's face in his shoulder. If his shirt was getting wet, Steve didn't say anything.

And if Bucky felt tears drip into his hair, down his neck, he didn't say anything either.

\--

 _Bzzzzzz_. _Bzzzzzz_. Bzzzzzz.

“Agh,” Bucky said blearily, rolling over in bed to grab his phone. God, he'd only got a few hours sleep, after he and Steve said goodnight, Bucky leaving Steve on the couch. He did feel bad about that, neither of the couches were big enough for Steve's long body, but Steve insisted. Ever the gentleman.

The thought warmed Bucky, as he opened up his phone to find-

Fuck, five missed calls from St Lucia. How did he sleep through all of them? Fuck, fuck-

He threw off the covers, already stumbling to his dresser to grab whatever clothes were socially acceptable, throwing his phone on top of the dresser to listen to the voicemails. He was about to open them up when his phone chimed once more.

 **Becca**  
Text Message

“What?” Bucky breathed out, his heart thudding hopefully in his chest. He abandoned his search for clothes to open it, hand trembling.

The message was a picture of Becca, gaunt and pale and worn, but smiling. A brown-skinned hand was behind her head, making bunny ears. Becca was flipping off the camera.

 **Becca** : i lived bitch

Bucky burst out laughing, and maybe they sounded a little too much like sobs, but he was torn apart by fear and hope and just pure out fucking love, and relief. And maybe he was slightly too loud and slightly too deranged, because thirty seconds into his hysterical laughing fit, his bedroom door burst open, revealing a sleep-tousled and very worried Steve Rogers.

“Buck? What's wrong? Are you- Is she-” Steve said, steps purposeful as he crossed the room to Bucky.

Bucky couldn't stop laughing, and then tears started to fall. Steve's eyes widened and he looked actually terrified, which for some ridiculous reason, made Bucky laugh harder.

“Buck, what happened?” Steve said, close enough to reach out a hand and grip Bucky.

Bucky grabbed his phone, and showed him the message still on it.

Steve looked at it, looked back at Bucky, and then back at the phone.

And then started laughing too, bright and beautiful and joyous.

It was all too easy then to sink into his arms, both of them crying and laughing, seemingly with no end in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, just a bit of fluff with becca to soothe any hurts from last chapter!
> 
> also woo! technically bruce's first appearance!

It's probably a testament to how much he needs to see Becca, that he climbs on the back of Steve's bike, arm wrapped around the man, helmet-less. Steve had been right, it was going to be way quicker than the train, and the idea that, now that he knew Becca was okay, he could get this close to Steve without crying being the reason was enticing, to say the least. 

“Don't worry, you'll get there in one piece,” Steve said, gripping Bucky's arm once. Bucky could see his smile as he peered over his shoulder. 

“If I must lose another limb, make it a leg?” Bucky said back. Steve laughed, and gunned the engine. 

The first ten minutes Bucky buried his face in Steve's back, feeling exposed and panicked as the wind whipped past him, both from the movement of the bike and of the cars around them. But then he raised his head, to watch buildings whip past them, and felt a little bit of awe. If he had another arm, he'd probably stretch it out, feel the way the wind twisted around it. 

As it was, he only had the one, and it was quite occupied by his fingers digging in as hard as they can to Steve's stomach. 

He lent his head back against Steve's back, this time on its side, so he could watch the world go by. 

Soon they were nearing the hospital, and Steve pulled up as close as he could to the doors. “Go in, I will be right behind you,” he said, with that fierce surety. Bucky swung off the bike, gave him a very tight hug (Steve managed to get one hand on his hip), and then darted inside. 

“Keshini!” He yelled, sprinting past the desk. She looked up and gave him a bright smile. 

“Go, go, go!” She yelled back, waving him on. 

He didn't need to be told twice, and jumped into the waiting elevator. How convenient.

Fourth floor, eight rooms down. Becca's door was open. He practically flew inside. 

Becca was curled on her side, familiar needles in her arm, looking as pale and worn as her photo, but her chest was moving with ease, and she seemed peaceful. Bucky let out a choked, relieved breath, stuttering sobs coming from him. He was so fucking happy. 

“She's going to be tired for a bit. Stimming her system only does so much,” Talia said, and Bucky only then noticed that she was standing by the bed, holding Becca's chart. “She should be her usual self in a matter of hours.” 

“Sounds like her,” Bucky said, aiming for light-hearted joking, but his voice wobbled with so much emotion. 

Talia rubbed her hand down his arm, smiling softly and warmly. “She's a fighter. Just like her brother. Now,” she said, hanging Becca's chart back up. “I'll leave you to it. Make sure she stays down, though.” 

“I'll try to tell her that,” Bucky said, laughing wetly. 

Talia squeezed his shoulder once, and then left the room. Bucky crossed it, to Becca's side, sinking onto the bed beside her. He ran careful fingers through her limp, greasy hair, and let himself cry just a little. God, she was alive. She was alive and she was still here. 

“If...if that's Bucky crying on me, you can fuck off,” Becca mumbled into her pillow. Bucky laughed again. 

“You first,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

She smiled. “I'm gonna go back to sleep now,” she said, sleepily. 

“You do that. I'll be here,” Bucky said, cupping her face. 

“Nooooooooo,” she said, the word dropping off as her face went slack. 

Bucky stroked her hair back from her face, trying to keep his happy tears quiet. 

Steve shot into the room not long after that, almost screeching to a halt. Bucky chuckled silently. Steve grinned at him. 

“She's okay?” He whispered. 

Bucky looked down at her, and nodded. “She's sleeping it off.” 

Steve walked up behind him, and wrapped an arm around Bucky's shoulders. “She's okay,” he said again, breathlessly relieved. 

Bucky leaned back into him.

\--

The next time Becca woke, Bucky was in Steve's usual chair, and was staring at her fondly. When she stirred, he jolted upright, and leaned closer to her. 

“Hey,” she said sleepily, rubbing at her eye. “How long was I out?” 

“Few hours. You can sleep some more, I'm not going anywhere,” Bucky said, reaching out to take her left hand, careful of her needles. 

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm awake now.” She started to struggle sit up, and Bucky was quick to drop her hand to press lightly on her shoulder.

“Stay down. Talia's orders,” he said sternly. Becca grumped, pouting, but lay back down. 

“I had a dream Steve was here,” she said, peering at Bucky. 

Bucky smiled. “He is. He's grabbing us another coffee.” 

Becca poked his face. “You look awfully fond right now,” she said, and even though she was probably exhausted, she still managed to sound sly. Bucky batted her hand away playfully.

“Fond? Of my friend? Don't be ridiculous,” he teased right back. 

“Has he been here the whole time?” Becca asked, tucking her hand under her pillow. 

“Yeah. He stayed at ours last night,” Bucky said, leaning his elbow on the bed. Becca's eyes widened hugely, and Bucky realised his mistake immediately. “Not like that, Jesus, Becca.”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? I thought you guys might've bonded over my prone body,” Becca said, sighing dramatically, throwing a hand to her forehead. 

Bucky's good humour dropped for a moment, and he ducked his head, gathering himself. He felt a hand in his hair. 

“Sorry,” Becca said, softly. Bucky grabbed her hand, and kissed her palm. 

“We kinda did. I told him about mum and dad. Nicky and Jenny,” he said, keeping their hands together. 

Becca smiled softly at him. A little sadly, too. “Wish I could remember them,” she said. 

Bucky kissed her hand again. “You don't have to do that for my sake. It's okay.” 

Becca shrugged. “Maybe I want to take care of you at some point. You self-sacrificing idiot.” 

Steve knocked on the door carefully then, and Bucky turned to look at him. Steve's smile is soft, warm and welcoming. He looked the way home felt.

“Self-sacrificing idiot? You're not talking about me now, are you?” He said, grinning. He put a coffee down on the table beside Bucky. He then sat on the bed in front of Bucky, body somehow angled towards both Barnes'. 

Becca grinned sleepily at Bucky. “Or maybe he's got it covered,” she said, giggling. Bucky kissed her hand again, before letting go to swat her head. 

\--

“So they suppress her immune system till it stops?” Steve asked, frowning. 

Bucky nodded. “They then use a stimulant to bring it back, gently. So it doesn't immediately start back up attacking her.” 

“Takes a day or so for it to happen,” Becca added, with a yawn. “Stim takes a lot out of me, which is, ya know, ironic.” 

Steve shook his head. “This is...way more advanced than anything we had.” He gestured out with an arm as he does so, and felt his shirt ride up a bit. Becca grabbed his arm, and Steve looked down in a panic, thinking that maybe she was in pain, but just saw her poking at his nicotine patch. 

“What?” She asked, looking at him with huge, confused eyes. A quick glance at Bucky showed him with the same look, and Steve had to laugh at that. 

“It's not what you think, really. I haven't touched a smoke since I came out the ice,” Steve said, slapping at Becca's hand gently. She slapped his right back. 

“You smoked? Captain America? Smoked?” She said, sounding truly shocked. 

“Well, it was pretty common back then. Soldiers got paid partially in cigarettes,” he said, feeling a little uneasy, but could get past that. For Becca's sake. “Plus, I had asthma, before the serum.”

“...you smoked. Because you had asthma?” Bucky's voice was incredibly disbelieving. 

“Yeah. Asthma cigarettes. Supposedly would ease it, according to my doctor. Imagine my shock when I come forward 70 years and turns out they were making it worse,” Steve laughed, and thankfully that brought a smile to Bucky's lips. It was still disbelieving, but he seemed to find it slightly more funny than shocking now. 

“Have you got- I mean, did you have emphy...lung cancer?” Becca sounded so terribly worried for him, Steve couldn't help but lean over and gather her in his arms. She made a noise that sounded like 'meep'. 

“If I did, serum got rid of it. It also made me not really able to get it. Or any disease, really. At least not any that I've come into contact with,” Steve said, after squeezing her gently, and letting her go. Her cheeks were stained bright red. 

“So, really, you could keep smoking?” Bucky questioned. 

Steve shrugged. “Probably. But now that I know secondhand smoke is a thing, I don't really wanna be responsible for someone else getting sick. Seems rude.” 

“If it doesn't affect you, why the patch?” Becca asked, sounding a little weak. That worried Steve, but she still had that bright blush on her cheeks, so he figured that it wasn't her health that she was feeling weak about. 

Steve smiled, a little guiltily. “Nicotine cravings. I'm down to one patch every so often, though.” 

“That's good! Quitting anything is hard,” Becca said, reaching out with one hesitating hand to hold Steve's. Steve gripped it fondly. 

“You ever feel the urge, we can definitely help quell that,” Bucky added, and Steve felt his foot press against his own. He was flooded with an overwhelming amount of fondness for both of them. 

He wouldn't tell Becca that he hung onto Bucky's just that slight bit more. 

“James?” A nurse stuck her head in the doorway, looking over at Bucky. He looked over to her, smiling politely. 

“Hey, Heidi. Everything all right?” 

Steve's gut curled uncomfortably at the idea that everything might not be. 

Heidi smiled, which soothed that. “Yeah. Kesh just has some stuff for you to go over. The usual,” she said, gesturing towards the elevator. 

“Be right there,” Bucky said, with that same polite smile, and Heidi nodded and left. Bucky sighed. “I'll be like, a minute. Promise,” he said to Becca, getting up, leaning over her, and kissing her forehead. 

“God, make it ten, at least,” Becca said, making a show of wiping her forehead. Bucky flipped her off, and left the room, rolling his eyes at Steve. Steve grinned back at him. 

“The love in this room is unbearable,” he drawled, looking over at Becca. 

“Yeah, well, I bet he didn't move from here until you came back. I'd rather not see him for a couple of weeks if it means he actually took the fuck care of himself,” Becca said, grumpily. 

Steve squeezed her hand again. “It's all right. I'll make sure he does,” he assured her, or at least tried to.

He then frowned, because Becca tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes in a curious way. She turned her head this way and that, peering at him, and Steve cracked after ten seconds. “All right, what does that look mean?”

“Nothing,” Becca said, unconvincingly. She even shrugged. 

Steve was known for being a strategist. He was also known for being oblivious. Somehow, in this moment, those two things met in the middle and Steve knew exactly what Becca was seeing that Bucky was not. He sighed. 

“I am trying not to be too obvious about it,” he muttered, and got a squeal of joy and maybe triumph from Becca. 

“I knew it!” she crowed, and Steve had to laugh at the way she wiggled their joined hands around. 

“Becca, nothing's happened,” Steve said, trying to shush her. 

“Okay, but I'm okay now. I get that your epic romance-” Steve groaned. “-had to be put on hold for a moment, so that you could comfort each other over possibly losing the best thing in your life, me-” 

“Becca,” Steve said, laughing a little helplessly.

“-but you're all good now! Green light! Go for it!” She said, shaking his hand around again. 

“How do you have this much energy right now?” He said, trying to still their hands. 

“Because I've had to watch my brother stupidly resign himself to being alone and loveless just because he lost an arm? Because I'm afraid that he actually believes he's not worthy of love? Or maybe, the real reason, I am real tired of third wheeling you guys while you sit on either side of me, staring at each other like you're both dying of thirst and the other is a tall drink of water?” Becca said, words practically flying out of her mouth.

Steve just blinked at her a couple of times. 

Becca's mouth formed a stern line, and she tilted her head at him. 

“He really thinks that he doesn't deserve love?” Steve asked finally. 

Becca's look turned sad, and a little distant. “Not all of you comes back from war. I'm not just talking about limbs, though, I guess, I don't need to tell you that.” 

Steve shook his head. “No. No, you don't.” 

“Besides. What have either of you to lose? Just go for it,” Becca said, this time gentle. Steve smiled a little. 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” Becca said. 

“Yeah?” Bucky asked from the door. 

Steve twisted to look at him, for a moment worried he might've heard something, but the look on Bucky's face was more fondly confused than anything else. 

“None of your fucking business, Buchanan!” Becca yelled, and then coughed promptly after. Bucky was at her side in an instant, Steve leaning in closer, worry back in his heart. Becca pushed both of them back, Steve with their joined hands. “I'm fine, mums.” 

“Oh, come on. Surely we can be dads,” Bucky said, flicking her ear. 

“Stop mothering me then, and teach me to throw a football.” 

“That is stereotyping and sexist. You're playing into the patriarchy.” 

“You'RE plaYinG iNTo thE PatrIARchy.” 

“Steve? Come on, back me up,” Bucky turned imploring eyes on Steve. 

“Yeah, I mean. My mum taught me to paint, and also which part of a man's head to swing a bat at,” Steve said, nodding seriously at Bucky. 

“Oh, you do not get to gang up on me right now. I am sick! I am wasting away in this bed!” Becca moaned, dramatically. 

Bucky and Steve said nothing at that, but laughed. 

\--

 **Me** : Hey guys, sorry I didn't text earlier, but Becca is okay!  
**Clint B** : thats awesome cap glad to hear that meeting her when  
**Natasha R** : Seconded that.  
**Tony S** : Wait, who is Becca? Why do we care that she's okay?  
**Me** : Oh, shit. I didn't realise this was the group-group chat.  
**Bruce B** : I second Tony. Who is Becca?  
**Clint B** : steebs new friends  
**Clint B** : steves*  
**Tony S** : And just how is Steeb meeting friends who aren't us?  
**Me** : You know, sometimes I hate technology.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's a few time jumps in here, i was iffy about putting in like a ~one week later~ sort of deal, but if it's unclear in places, let me know!

Becca kicked them out around 8. 

“I don't want to see either of you anymore. You're both boring,” she mumbled into her pillow, eliciting a laugh from Steve, and a very fond smile from Bucky. Bucky leaned over his sister, and kissed her cheek. One arm wriggled up from her covers to wrap around his neck. Bucky smiled, feeling tears prick his eyes again. 

“I love you, so much,” he whispered to her. 

“Love you too,” she said, her hand tightening around his neck for a moment. “But for real, fuck off.” 

Bucky laughed, but did as she said, after a last kiss to her temple. He looked over his shoulder, and saw her eyelids flutter shut as she drifted off again. 

“It was such a relief seeing her, herself,” Steve murmured as they made their way back to the elevator. 

“I'm always so worried she's going to put up a front, but then I remember how much she likes to complain,” Bucky laughed. He hit the button for the ground floor. 

“Need a ride home?” Steve asked. 

“You don't have to do that. The tower's closer than Brooklyn,” Bucky replied, giving Steve a genuine smile. He could feel it reaching his toes. God, it felt better than the half-smiles he did yesterday. 

Steve took his hand again. Which was just the most natural feeling in the world by now. “I've never been good at making things easy for myself. Besides, it's gotta be your turn to cook me dinner,” he said, with a full, beaming grin. 

“Oh, that's how it is now? Favour for a favour, that it?” Bucky laughed, using their joined hands to push at Steve's chest.

“If that's how I get a free meal, absolutely. Not that you'd let me pay even if I offered,” Steve teased back. 

It was warm, and familiar, and- 

The elevator doors opened. Bucky caught sight of who was waiting for him, and grimaced. 

“Oh, no. I'm in serious trouble,” he said weakly. 

Steve went on high alert for one split second, back straightening, even making to move in front of Bucky (holy shit, how adorable), but then saw the same thing Bucky did. He had the gall to laugh. 

“Oh, I really don't think I can help you there,” Steve said, smiling sympathetically. 

Bucky groaned. “Remember me fondly,” he said, and dropped Steve's hand to walk out into the lobby, waving to get Elise and Thistle's attention. 

Elise saw him first, and Bucky winced as she turned a fierce, powerful glare on him. 

“I'm sorry?” He said, and signed, even in fear remembering to include Thistle in the conversation. Even though she was also looking ready to kill him from those two words alone. 

“No call! No text! We find out today, and from Becca!” Elise said, her tone even, cool, and completely terrifying. 

_We weren't even allowed up to see her_ , Thistle signed. 

“Yeah, they don't let anyone up but family afterwards usually. I'm sorry, guys, I know I should've messaged you-” Bucky tried. 

“We were so worried, Bucky!” Elise said, and there is such sadness in her eyes that Bucky's guilt skyrocketed. 

_Becca said that she had been sick for three days. Three whole days? And you let yourself be alone?_ Thistle added.

“I- my phone was dead, and I-” Bucky started, but was quickly cut off but Elise throwing her arms around him. 

“We're your friends, Sarge. Your friends. We want to be here for you, but you need to let us,” she said, and Bucky could feel her signing against his back. Thistle had moved to his side, one had on his shoulder.

Bucky dipped his head against Thistle's, and raised his hand to clutch at Elise's arm. “I know, and I should've told you. I just-”

“Don't want to bother people,” Steve's voice said, and he sounded as sad as Elise had. Bucky's heart clenched.

“Oh, Hi Steve,” Elise said, and then pulled back from Bucky to stare at him, dropping her hands from his shoulders to free them up. “I thought only family were allowed in. Didn't you just say only family were allowed in?” 

_He very much did just say that_ , Thistle signed, and Bucky did not like the analysing look in her eyes. 

“He- uh, he took me home yesterday. So I guess...they...uh,” Bucky really didn't have a concrete answer to give them, other than he had needed Steve there, and he didn't want to say that with the man right there. 

Hoping that Steve couldn't see his hand, Bucky signed that. And sighed as Elise and Thistle's eyebrows went into their hair. 

“You should be able to get in and see her tomorrow. I'll be here, I can smooth that over for you,” he said, turning imploring eyes on them both that they should drop it.

“We can do that. Tonight, however, you're coming with us. Dinner, whole deal,” Elise said, and her voice told him no argument. 

He looked behind him at Steve, and found a very easy one. 

“I've got dinner plans already,” he said, smiling apologetically. 

_Already got dinner plans_ , Thistle repeated. And then looked pointedly at Steve. 

“It's okay. We can postpone,” Steve said, and his hand squeezed Bucky's shoulder. Bucky looked up, feeling himself deflate a little. 

“Thought I owed you,” he said. 

Steve smiled, and he looked weirdly hopeful. Strange. “You can get me next time.”

“Or you could just come as well?” Elise pointed out. 

_Friend of Sarge's is a friend of ours. Plus, you're a good customer_ , Thistle said, smiling. Elise translated for Steve. 

Steve looked at his shoes, and blushed. Bucky felt his heart clench with just how sweet that was. 

“I appreciate the offer, both of you. Thank you. But I should probably get back, I've got some explaining to do,” he said, and there was a slight grimace. 

“What explaining?” Bucky said, frowning. 

“That due to my still slight ineptitude with technology, Tony Stark knows about you and Becca. Nat apparently barely managed to block off your Facebook profiles before he got into them,” Steve said, actually grimacing. 

“Tony Stark was going to hack my Facebook. I don't know if I should be honoured or not,” Bucky said, slightly dazed. 

_Wait, wait, slow down, let Elise catch up_ , Thistle signed, after thumping Bucky's arm. She then watched her wife's hands move for a few seconds, and then gaped in shock at Bucky. Bucky, wishing he could rub the bruise that was no doubt forming on his arm, made the same incredulous face back at her. 

“I'll text you?” Steve asked, half moving towards the door. 

“Yeah. Um, Steve?” Bucky called, stepping to catch up with Steve. 

He stopped moving, and turned a little more back to Bucky. “Yeah?” 

“Thank you. For everything,” Bucky said. 

The look in Steve's eyes could've knocked the legs out from under Bucky, if Steve hadn't swept him into a hug that moment. Bucky clung back, wondering at the logistics of just hanging off Steve. Forever. 

“You never gotta ask me for that, Buck. I'm with you.” Steve's voice was very close to his ear, and as a result so were his lips to Bucky's neck. 

Wow. Your sister gets better in the morning, and by night you're back to your thirsty ways. Good lord, Bucky Barnes, you work quick. 

“Yeah, well. Remember that yourself,” Bucky said back, regretfully pulling back from Steve. He regretted it even more when Steve pulled back a little further, smiling softly at him. 

Steve turned away then, and actually made for the exit, but his left hand slipped down Bucky's arm, and their fingers met, clung, and let go in one smooth movement. Then Bucky was left to watch him go, and actually flexed his fingers, like he could retain the feeling. 

“Well,” Elise said, slinging an arm around Bucky's shoulders. “Apparently you have a lot of explaining to do, yourself.” 

Thistle didn't need to say anything, she just peered at Bucky, with those eyes that saw everything. 

Bucky groaned.

\--

Steve thought he'd made it safely into the Tower, that he would be able to go straight to his floor, and maybe consider a new life anywhere, but that was before he stepped into the elevator, and heard JARVIS' voice. 

“I'm sorry, Captain Rogers, but Mister Stark has initiated No-Secrets-Between-Avengers mode.”

Steve sighed. “And what does that mean, JARVIS?” 

“I am taking you directly to the common floor, where Mister Stark, Miss Romanov, Mister Barton and Doctor Banner are waiting.” 

Steve groaned. “Of course you are.” 

He steeled himself, and then JARVIS spoke one last time before the doors opened. “I am terribly sorry about this, Captain.”

The doors opened, and Tony immediately walked in, wrapped an arm around Steve and pulled him into the common room. “I cannot believe the deep betrayal from you, Rogers,” he started, and Steve knew if he dug his feet in Tony couldn't move him, but was still letting him drag him along. 

“I'm allowed to have a private life, Tony,” he protested. 

“Yes, from the public. Not from me,” Tony corrected, turning huge fake-hurt eyes on him. 

“I think having secrets from you is necessary. If only for safety,” Nat said from her perch on the couch's arm. 

Tony pointed at her. “You don't get a say in this, triple-agent.” 

Nat smirked. 

“You've been busy enough that this slipped through your radar, Tony, I don't think you get to blame Steve,” Bruce said, ever the voice of reason, if a tired one. 

“Bruce, we agreed. You're under my roof, you obey my rules,” Tony said, taking his glasses off so he could gesture with them at Bruce. Bruce had no other reaction than to roll his eyes. “I'm not hurt I didn't know about Bucko and Breaker-”

“Bucky and Becca,” Clint corrected. 

“-I'm more upset that Legolas and Femme Fatale got to meet them first, before me. Your best friend,” Tony said, simpering. 

Steve raised his eyes heavenward. “Nope.” 

“Fine. The son of your best friend.” 

“Howard and I were coworkers at best.” 

“Fine! The guy who threw a missile through a portal for you.” 

There was a collective groan throughout the room. 

“We said you had bragging rights, we didn't mean that you could abuse them!” Clint said, throwing a pillow at Tony. Steve caught it before it could hit him, and tossed it onto the empty armchair. 

“I will abuse whatever rights I have to do with whatever I want. But my main point,” Tony said, turned to Steve, and spreading his arms wide.

“Tony, she's in hospital and he's a private person. I really didn't think it was a good idea to bring the Avengers swooping down upon them,” Steve said. 

Tony pointed at Nat and Clint, and raised one eyebrow. 

“They found out through...serendipity,” Steve said, giving Tony his best tired-of-this eyes. 

“Then seren-dip-me, Steeb,” Tony insisted. 

That got another round of groans. 

Bruce actually got up. “And with that, I am gone. Steve? They sound great, from what Nat and Clint said. If they want to meet us, that would be nice. In the mean time, when you're done, drama queen?” Bruce said, slapping Tony's back as he passed. “I've got that thing for you to look at.” 

Tony perked up. “Oh, the thing? The planned thing?” 

“Yes, the planned thing,” Bruce said, sounding tireder than Steve felt. 

“Well, that's way more interesting than this.” Tony stepped around Steve to catch up with Bruce, but turned at the last second to point at Steve. “Bring them here. We'll have a party.” 

“She's in hospital, Tony!” Steve said exasperatedly. 

“Then we'll bring the party to her!” Tony said, and then the elevator closed between them. 

Steve sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “I really cannot have things for myself, can I?” 

He felt two hands pat his shoulders. 

“Say the word and I can have him assassinated. I know plenty of ex-KGB that would be happy for work,” Nat offered. 

“Or I can break the coffee machine. Same effect, right?” Clint counter-offered. 

“Thanks, guys. Real helpful,” Steve deadpanned. 

\--

Bucky thanked the delivery guy, and looped the bag through his arm. He closed the door with his foot, and padded back into the living room, handing the bag over to Steve, who sat up from his sprawled position to take it. 

“Check they gave you chopsticks?” Bucky called, heading into the kitchen to grab a fork. 

“Yeah, there's also...way too much soy sauce. That's the little fish packets, right?” Steve called back. Bucky stifled a laugh. 

“They always give extra. It's why they're the best, most other places would charge extra,” he said, heading back into the living room, rounding the couch. He kicked Steve's leg, and he moved it instantly, and that made Bucky let out that laugh. 

“So polite, Rogers,” he said, slumping onto the couch. Steve retaliated by propping his leg back up on Bucky's knee. “Honestly, how dare you.” 

Steve smiled at him, that hell-raiser smirk. “Sometimes you move, sometimes you stand your ground.” 

“And this is the hill you choose to die on? How much of my couch you're trying to take up?” 

“Well, there is a whole other couch. You chose to sit here, Buck.” 

“Chose to sit on my own couch, in my own damn house.”

“You know people were a lot more hospitable in the 30's, Buck. You should aspire to make me more comfortable.”

“I'll aspire to choke you with your own self-righteousness.” 

Steve threw a pillow at him. Bucky hid a giant smile behind it, before he threw it right back.

\--

Bucky slid into their usual booth at Elise and Thistle's, and Steve hugged him hello. He wasn't entirely sure that he was allowed to, some part of him always saying that it wasn't right, wasn't natural (even though it felt bloody right and natural), but despite all of that, the way Bucky hugged him back was more than enough reason to keep doing it. 

“Okay, how far off are they and how scared do I actually need to be?” Bucky said into his shoulder. Steve laughed into Bucky's neck, and pulled away. Their hands stayed together, and that was the usual now, too. 

“They are around the corner, and on a case-by-case basis?” Steve said, grinning a little weakly. 

“You swear it's just Nat and Clint?” Bucky said, and Steve heard the worry. 

“Bruce will stop Tony from being Tony. Elise and Thistle will not have to endure a media storm,” Steve promised. 

The tension seemed to go out of Bucky then, and that made Steve feel so much better. Even better was the sly little smile that Bucky then had. 

“I can't believe I'm meeting actual Avengers, in my friend's bar, because my friend Captain America talked about me so much,” he said, tilting his head charmingly at Steve. 

As what was happening more and more of late, Steve was reminded of Becca telling him to go for it. And every time, he told himself, not yet. 

“Should I be insulted I'm not included in 'actual Avengers'? I mean, technically speaking, I was probably the first,” Steve pointed out. Bucky let go of his hand to pat Steve's face. “Oh, very patronising. Thank you,” Steve drawled. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset America's ego,” Bucky said, barely holding back laughter. 

“You know what, Barnes?” Steve said, grinning. 

Steve's phone buzzed, and he turned away from Bucky to check it, feeling Bucky's hand drop back to his. 

**_Natasha R, Clint B, Me_**  
**Natasha R** : Christ, whenever you two are done  
**Clint B** : we could come back any other time like any other time

Steve sighed. “Hi, guys,” he said, to what must've seemed like the entire bar. 

Bucky gave him a very puzzled look, and then jumped when Nat and Clint seemingly materialised out of nowhere. “Yeah, they do that,” Steve said, giving the spies very pointed looks. 

“Just wanted to give you both ample time to gaze into each other's eyes,” Nat said, sliding smoothly into the seat opposite Bucky. 

Steve very forcefully did not look at Bucky, instead focusing on Clint dragging his chair closer to Nat before swinging into it. 

“Nat, come on, you've seen those things. You could fall into them,” Clint said, batting eyelashes at Steve. 

“I've changed my mind, Bucky. You're not allowed to meet anyone I work with, ever,” Steve said, glaring with very little heat at Clint. 

“Very dangerous things, those eyes. I could weaponize them,” Nat said seriously, but there was a quirk to her lips. 

“I get the impression that there's very little you couldn't weaponize,” Bucky said, leaning on the table. Steve was not going to lie to himself, the calculating look Bucky had in his eyes was very...intriguing. 

Nat raised an eyebrow. “You getting that from a look, Barnes?” 

“Well. I also have insider information,” he said, looking back at Steve, and his smile was so pretty. 

“You giving away my secrets, Cap?” Nat said, leaning on her elbows, chin resting on her entwined fingers. 

“If you're asking that seriously, you greatly underestimate my fear of you,” Steve replied. Nat laughed. 

After that, Bucky and Nat fell into conversation about film noir, of all things, Clint interjecting here and there, but mostly content to lounge across Nat's lap. Steve had no clue about half of the things they were talking about, but every time he thought of a question, Bucky seemed to turn just then and explain the very thing they were talking about. The conversation turned into topics that Steve could actually join in on, but his chest did not lose the fuzzy feeling he got, knowing that Bucky was somehow so intune with him. 

Eventually Steve had an arm thrown along the back of the booth, Bucky pressed against his side, but not leaning. Nat was telling a story, gesticulating in a manner that greatly reminded Steve of that kung-fu movie he and Bucky had watched the other week. Clint was flicking beer caps into an empty glass, while also chiming in to Nat's story, adding details she might've missed. 

Bucky picked up a few bottle caps of his own, and started to flick them into the glass. He hit every time, the same as Clint. 

“It's getting kinda late for us. We've got tomorrow for prep, then we fly out,” Nat said, after her story was done and Bucky had finished gaping at her like a fish. Clint nodded in agreement. 

“Stark's apparently got the new suits and some fun arrow things for us. Well. The arrows are for me. I'm not sharing,” he said, earning a sharp elbow to the side. 

“I should get home too, seeing Becca in the morning,” Bucky agreed. He didn't make a move to shift away from Steve, though, even as Nat and Clint stood. That was incredibly satisfying for Steve. 

“It was so good to meet you properly, Bucky,” Clint said, shaking Bucky's hand eagerly. “I'd hug you, but I'd hate to tear you away from Steve. He could literally snap me in half.” 

“I wouldn't underestimate Bucky, Barton,” Nat said, grinning slyly. “How many Chitauri did you take down hand to hand?” 

Clint pointed a finger at her, glaring playfully. “I'll take you down, hand to hand.” 

“Sure you will, tough guy,” Nat said. 

She waved over her shoulder as they walked out together, nudging each other with their shoulders, bickering. 

“I could, though,” Steve said. Bucky looked up at him in confusion. “I could snap him in half.” 

Bucky laughed. “Feeling insecure?” 

Steve lolled his head onto Bucky's shoulder. “What on earth do I have to be insecure about?” The real answer was a lot of things, but Bucky seemed to pick up on the fake answer, and took Steve's hand again. Steve tightened his fingers around Bucky's. 

“Thought you needed to go,” Steve said. 

“Yeah. Maybe,” Bucky said, quietly. 

They didn't say anything else for a long moment. Steve could feel his heart thudding in time to the sound of Bucky's. 

“Hey, tell me something?” Bucky asked. 

Anything, Steve thought. “If I can?” He said. 

“They dating? Nat and Clint?” 

Steve laughed, and sat up. “Honestly?” He said, when he and Bucky had eye contact. “I have no idea.” 

“They secretive?” Bucky asked. 

“Well, there's that, but- I guess they're just like that. People so close that you can't tell if they're best friends or together,” Steve said with a shrug. 

He watched something change in Bucky's eyes, like a shutter going down. Steve immediately started panicking, but couldn't put his finger on what had just happened. 

“Buck?” He questioned. 

Bucky gave him a smile, but it wasn't the warm comfortable one from before. “I really should go,” he said. He sounded apologetic, but there was something a little too quick in the way he slid away from Steve. 

“I'll walk you home?” Steve offered. 

Bucky shook his head. “Not this time. Let me know when you're coming to see Becca next?” 

“Uh, sure. You good to get home?” Steve tried again. 

“All good, Cap. Get home, yourself,” Bucky said, smiling over his shoulder, making his way out of the bar. 

What? What just happened? 

Then it clicked. 

_I guess they're just like that. People so close that you can't tell if they're best friends or together._

Steve groaned, and let his head fall into his hands. 

_Steven Grant Rogers, you are an idiot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they will not pine for much longer, i pinky swear


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands*

**Steve** : Are you heading in today?  
 **Me** : was planning on it. you coming?  
 **Steve** : Yeah. I can't stay long, unfortunately.  
 **Me** : avengers business?  
 **Steve** : SHIELD business. Even more secretive.  
 **Me** : sounds dangerous  
 **Steve** : I'll be fine. I've got people backing me up.   
**Me** : i worry about you when you- _deletedeletedelete_  
 **Me** : come back to me in one- _deletedeletedelete_  
 **Me** : did you mean us when you said that- _deletedeletedelete_  
 **Me** : take care. becca would be pretty mad if you died  
 **Steve** : Well. I wouldn't want to upset her.   
**Steve** : :)

\--

The visit was strained. Maybe not in an obvious way, Bucky still hugged him back, laughed at his jokes, smiled at him. But there was an undercurrent, that something had changed. Part of Bucky was being held back. Steve felt drained, and for once, didn't mind that he was leaving early. 

And he hated that. He had to fix this, as soon as possible. Maybe he could ask Becca, once he could get her on the phone. He'll wait until he was on the jet, by then Bucky will have left, and he can quiz his sister on just how to tell Bucky that he- 

Well. That he really was just talking about Nat and Clint. He was very sure of what he wanted from Bucky. 

“I better go,” he said, checking the time. 

Becca frowned. “So soon?”

“He's got business,” Bucky said, smiling at Steve. Steve smiled back automatically. Like a robot. 

Becca's frown deepened. “Right. Well. See you soon?” She was asking a very different question with her eyes. 

Steve leaned over her to give her a hug. “Later,” he whispered lowly. She nodded against his cheek. 

“Be safe, yeah?” She said once they parted. Steve saluted her. 

“Always am,” he said, turned to go. 

“Seriously, Steve. Be careful,” Bucky said, and there was something far more genuine in that. Steve turned around, and smiled at him. That felt more real too. 

“I'm coming back,” he said, and then walked out the door. 

He was two steps down the hallway when he heard a solid thwack, and Bucky groan. 

“What was that for?” He said, sounding more confused than hurt. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Becca hissed. 

“Me? I didn't do anything!”

“What did he do then?”

“Nothing! Becca, nothing happened.”

“Is that the problem?” 

“Becs, come on.”

“Bucky. You looked like you couldn't wait to get out of the room, and he looked tired. Tired! Steve!”

“I did not-”

“Bucky-”

Steve realised he had stopped moving to eavesdrop then, and hurried along the corridor. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the end of that anyway. 

\--

Steve stared at the mission brief without really reading it. Hill was gesturing at something on a display at the front, and he wasn't really listening to her either. His finger tapped restlessly on the table beside the tablet, mind replaying Saturday night, over and over. It had been comfortable. It had been wonderful, even, to see Bucky and Nat bond like they'd been friends for years. It was like, for the first time, the two parts of his life were coming together, and that it was a good thing. 

He hadn't meant what he said about him and Bucky. He really hadn't. Why had Bucky thought that? Did his other friends usually hold his hand? 

“...Captain? Rogers?” Hill was saying, and Steve jumped a little, head snapping to look at her. She raised one eyebrow, her face impressively passive. “Your strategy?” She said, gesturing at the tablet. 

Steve coughed. “Right.” He stood. 

He'd never let personal issues get in the way of missions before. Even when Becca was sick. He was Captain America, goddamn it.

“The building will be heavily guarded, the hostages either here or here...”

\--

“T-minus two hours, Steve. You ready?” Nat said, hopping up onto the counter next to where Steve was standing. 

“Yep. Stark's new suit feels better, and I managed to talk him out of making the shield magnetic,” Steve said, tapping the shield strapped to his back with the hand currently not curled around a coffee cup. 

Nat leaned into his space. Steve looked at her, trying to ignore that you-are-an-insect-pinned-to-a-board look. 

“Hmm,” she said, and leaned back on her elbows. “You're stewing awfully hard.”

“Important mission,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Maybe. Or maybe something happened after Clint and I left,” Nat said, and Steve did his very best not to react, but Nat could probably read a flinch in his pinky finger. “And you're brooding, so it's not a good thing.”

“Brooding,” Steve repeated, giving her a withering look.

“Mmm. Like a teenage boy,” she said, lips curling in a smile. 

“Thanks Nat, that makes me feel so much better,” Steve said drily. 

“You wanna talk about it? We got two hours,” Nat offered, nudging him with her thigh. 

Steve sighed. “I don't know how much of it is just me overthinking-” He started, but was interrupted. 

By Tony. Because of course. “Romanov!” He bellowed across the room, walking towards them. 

Nat twisted to look at him. 

“You are, in fact, a spy, yes?” Tony said, once he had reached the counter. He leaned his hip against it. “Also hi, Captain.”

“Afternoon, Stark,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

“Sometimes,” Nat said, replying to his question. 

“So you would say you are good at reading people,” Tony barrelled on. 

“I could say that.” 

“Cryptic, but tells me what I need to know. What's your read on Pepper?” 

Nat hopped off the counter so she could turn and face Tony, staring him down. “What's my read on your girlfriend-slash-boss?” She said, voice disbelieving. 

“Yeah!” Tony said, looking at her expectantly. 

“I don't really know what you're trying to get out of this, Tony. Wouldn't you know Pepper better than me?” Nat said. 

“Okay, fine,” Tony said, sighing, and leaning on the counter, resting on his crossed arms. “Say you're me.”

“Nightmare,” Nat and Steve said as one. 

“Hurtful. Anyway. You're me, and you have done- hmm, let's say, you caused a PR emergency. How would you apologise to your girlfriend-slash-boss?” Tony lifted one arm to rest his chin on his hand. 

Steve laughed once into his coffee. 

“God, Tony,” Nat said, rolling her eyes. 

“Come on. Play along with me,” Tony said, pouting. 

Nat looked at him, and Steve laughed again at her look. “I know this is going to be difficult for you, but you need to go along with it.” Tony shrugged, nodding. “What you need to do, and this is very important, Tony. You need to treat her like the human being that she is...and apologise.” 

Tony looked at her for a long moment. “That. Is. The most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Obviously I'm doing a grand gesture,” he said, pushing himself off the counter, and pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Would you go artwork, or a giant stuffed bunny?” 

“It is honestly astonishing that any woman, let alone Pepper Potts, has ever been willing to sleep with you,” Nat deadpanned. 

Tony frowned at her, and pointed a finger. “I liked you better when you were my assistant.” 

“You were his assistant?” Steve asked, shocked. 

“Briefly. Thank god, very briefly,” Nat said. “It's bad enough now just being his co-worker, you should try following his whims for a week.”

Tony cheerfully flipped them both off, and strode back across the room, tapping away at his phone. 

Steve shook his head. “What does Pepper see in him?” 

“I'm still hoping she's deep cover SHIELD and we can get her out one day,” Nat said, smirking. 

Steve laughed, and drained the rest of his coffee, and dumped his cup in the sink. 

“Grand gesture,” he murmured to himself. 

\--

Steve, once the strike team were on the quinjet, excused himself, and found the corner furthest away from everyone. Granted, it wasn't particularly far, but it gave him at least the sense it would be private. 

He scrolled through his phone, located Becca's contact, and hit call. 

She picked up after three rings. “Well, he told me,” she said, by way of greeting.

Steve sighed, resting his forehead on the wall. “I really didn't mean it like that.” 

“I know that. But he's an idiot, and is used to not getting what he wants. Self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“I am struggling to see how he could interpret anything I do with him as platonic.” 

“Yeah, well, so am I. And I'm his sister.”

“God, if you don't know, none of us do.”

That got him a laugh. “Unfortunately, I am not able to rearrange his brain into something that can see the truth and interpret it as such.”

“Well, we can't all have useful super powers.” Steve grinned. 

“What a fucking useless power, Bucky's-Mind-Reading.” 

“You're useful to me, Bec,” Steve soothed. 

“Awww. Fuck you too, Steve,” Becca said, laughing. “Seriously though, there really isn't anything I can do from my end. I told you to go for it. I think, if you want this cleared up, you gotta just do it.” 

“Leap of faith?” Steve said, lifting his head from the wall. 

“Yeah. He's almost definitely waiting to catch you. He just hasn't realised it yet.” 

Steve stared at the wall for a long minute. Probably too long. 

“...shit, did you just go out of service range? Steve? You there?”

“Yeah, yes, sorry Becca. That's good advice.” 

“You gonna take it?” Becca asked, sternly. 

Steve smiled. “You know, I think I might.”

\--

The mission was a complete success, and once SHIELD was collecting both the hostages and the arrested bad guys (some splinter group or other, Steve had read 'pro-segregation' and that had been reason enough for him), Steve slumped onto a seat in the quinjet. He unclipped his helmet, tossing it to the side. 

Nat slid into the seat next to him, ruffling her hair, sighing contently. “No hostages down. You were right about the upper floor corridor.” 

“I know how to read a blueprint,” Steve said, grinning at her. 

Nat smirked, kicking at him lightly. “You also used my move.” 

“Oh, the leg choke hold? You never told me how much fun it is.” 

“Why do you think I do it all the time? Though how you managed to get all of yourself up there, that's incredible.” 

“Defying gravity is one of my many skills,” Steve drawled. 

The quinjet lifted off, and the pilot called back the estimated arrival time. Steve called back his acknowledgement. 

He and Nat sat in silence for a moment, Steve letting himself relax after three straight hours of fighting, running, and generally being Captain America. Nat seemed to content to let it sit too, stretching her arms behind her head. 

“You wanna talk about whatever it was that had you so down earlier?” She asked after some time, and Steve smiled to himself. 

“Nah. It's going to get solved, either way. Once we get back.” 

“Oh? Is that what your call was about earlier?” Nat leaned across her seat to peer at him closely. 

Steve rolled his head to the side. “Yeah. Got some advice from a friend.”

“Will you be following her advice?” Nat questioned. 

Steve smiled. “Yeah. With some guidance from Tony.”

Nat's face was so repulsed, Steve had to laugh. “That sounds like a terrible idea. Honestly, one of the worst ones out there.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Steve said, rolling his head back the other way. “There is something to be said about grand gestures.” 

Nat made a little 'hmm' noise, but didn't push. 

Steve settled back into his seat, smile forming on his lips. This was going to work.

\--

The jet landed at the tower, just as the sun broke across the horizon. The strike team were sent downstairs, to waiting SHIELD transport, hostages sent to ambulances, and the villains of the day escorted off, no doubt to jail. Nat had collected enough evidence to put all of them away for a very long time. 

“Debriefing in twenty,” Hill said over comms, as Nat and Steve stepped into the elevator, JARVIS taking them to the armoury. 

“Should give us enough time to shower, at least,” Nat said, yawning hugely. “God. Those one-dayers are a killer.” 

Steve 'mmphed' in agreement, but his mind was already racing. They wouldn't fire him, how could they? Essentially he was a contracted worker. Maybe a mercenary. A moral one, mind you. So they couldn't just stop using him. He's Captain America, that has to give him some immunity. Hill would be pissed, for sure, but the only thing that would really come of it was a scolding. A slap on the wrist, at worst. 

The elevator doors opened, and Nat stepped out. Steve did not follow. 

“JARVIS? Garage,” Steve said, decision made. 

Nat whirled on her heel, staring at him in joyous disbelief. “You're gonna do it in uniform?” She asked, incredulously. 

Steve shrugged, grinning hugely. “Grand gesture!”

The doors closed between them, but he still heard Nat's laugh. 

\--

Upbeat, pop-punk woke Bucky up, and it took him several moments to untangle himself from his covers, blearily grabbing at his phone a few times, hitting his phone in the general vicinity of the answer button. He didn't even see what time it was or who it was before he did.

“Hello?” He said groggily, tucking his phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could rub his eyes. 

“Hey, Bucky,” said Steve, and Bucky abruptly stopped. 

“Steve?” He said, dumbly. 

A chuckle. “Yep. Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“Obviously,” Bucky said, and pulled the phone away so he could see the screen. “Jesus, Steve, it's the crack of dawn,” he scolded. 

“And I am sorry about that, but I really have to- Okay, this is awkward. Could you let me in, please?” 

Bucky frowned, like Steve could see him. “Let you in?” The other shoe dropped. “You're at my apartment?” He said, somewhat in shock. 

“Yeah, and in uniform. I don't think anyone saw me come in, but, you know. Cautious for cautious sake,” Steve said. 

“You and cautious are not two words I would put together,” Bucky said, already wrangling covers off with his feet, and sliding off the bed. Steve was here? In uniform? This early?

“You wouldn't be the only person to think that,” Steve laughed warmly. 

“Something didn't happen, did it? You're okay?” Bucky said, padding across his room to his door, tucking his phone against his shoulder again to open it. 

“I'm fine. Or at least I will be. I think,” Steve said. 

“If I open this door and you have one bullet wound,” Bucky said, trying to sound threatening, but instead sounding more worried.

Steve's next words didn't come through the phone, but from his front door. “I am physically unharmed, I swear.” 

Bucky snorted, and hung up. He threw his phone onto the couch as he passed it. “Heard me coming?” 

“Heard you answer the phone,” Steve said. 

Why did that make Bucky's stomach swoop? 

He paused, just before the door, and took in a deep breath. Whatever Steve had to say, it didn't change that they were friends. They were friends, damn it. 

Bucky undid the latch, turned the lock, and opened the door. 

Despite the phone call, and hearing Steve through the door, he was still stupidly surprised to see Steve there. In full Captain America uniform, shield on back and all. He had some dirt on his cheek, and his uniform had a couple of tears, but he had a huge, beaming grin on his face, and it was hard for Bucky to not smile back. 

“Hi,” Steve said. 

“Hi,” Bucky replied. 

And then they just stood there, staring at each other. Bucky, get it the fuck together. 

“You gonna tell me what you're doing here? Not that you're not welcome or anything,” Bucky said, trying to sound cool and casual and less like he had a giant unrequited crush. 

Steve's smile dimmed a bit. 

Fuck. 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I spent the whole ride over here trying to come up with a speech. They usually come to me pretty easy, always been good at public speaking. But I could not think of a damn thing that would convince you.” 

Yeah, Bucky was incredibly lost. 

“Bucky...Buck, I-” Steve started, hands moving to his hips, eyes downcast. “I-” he tried again. 

Bucky was actually beginning to get concerned that something was actually wrong. “Steve, are you-” 

“You know what? Actions speak louder than words,” Steve said, all surety and fire, fixing Bucky with a blue-eyed, determined stare. 

Then his hands were cupping Bucky's face. Before Bucky could even open his mouth to ask 'what' or perhaps 'why', Steve dipped his head, and pressed his lips to Bucky's. 

Bucky's entire brain short-circuited. This wasn't real, Bucky was still in bed. This was a dream. This wasn't happening. 

Then Steve pulled back slightly, enough to part their lips, and Bucky made a disappointed noise. That he immediately blushed over. 

Steve looked uncertain, a far cry from just before. “You...okay? That wasn't overstepping, was it? Should I have-”

Bucky cut him off. “You wake me up at dawn, and- and do that, and expect me to have brain enough to react?” He said, sounding a little deranged, even to his own ears. 

Steve stifled a laugh, Bucky could see it in his lips (which he now knew the feel of. What?). “Should I-” He asked, and Bucky felt his hands start to slip from Bucky's face. 

Without thinking, Bucky's hand snatched at the front of Steve's uniform, curling hard into the fabric. “No, you should not, stay right there while I put my brain back in.”

Steve laughed, but stayed put. His hands were warm, and surprisingly not-calloused. Long fingers. Artists fingers. Moving slightly along Bucky's cheekbone- 

“Wait,” Bucky said suddenly. 

“Sure,” Steve said, his smile a little mocking. 

“When you said-” 

“I really meant Nat and Clint. I don't know what they are to each other. I know what I want to be to you.” 

Bucky's breath just about stopped. He managed to get enough to speak. “And what's that?” 

Steve's thumbs brushed broadly down Bucky's cheeks. “I can spell it out for you, but I know you know.” 

“Oh,” Bucky said, intelligently. 

Steve's mocking smile turned soft then, and his thumbs continued softly brushing Bucky's face. 

“So I totally misread that,” Bucky said, after a few moments. 

“Yes, but I could've also made it slightly clearer that I-” Steve frowned. Bucky frowned, suddenly panicked that Steve was about to take it all back. “I am trying to find the words that aren't as old as I am.”

“I'm sure I can figure it out,” Bucky said, weirdly dependant on hearing Steve say those actual words. 

Steve chuckled, and stepped back into Bucky's personal space. “I'm sweet on you, Bucky Barnes. And I'd like to take you out, properly.” 

“Oh,” Bucky said again. 

Because really, what could a one-armed, PTSD-ridden war vet say to that? 

“Are you still in there? Or am I waiting for your brain again?” Steve's voice said, sounding very amused, and that was enough jolt Bucky back into reality. 

“Okay, so you went on your mission-”

“Yesterday afternoon, yes.”

“You came back-”

“This morning.” 

“Didn't even change, rode straight to my house.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Called me at a time unreasonable to even morning people-”

“I'm starting to feel like you're mad at me.”

“-because you wanted to kiss me, tell me you liked me, and ask me out?” Bucky finished, staring up at Steve with eyes he knew were dazed and a little bit incredulous. 

Steve's smile was soft. His eyes were soft. His hands traced soft lines on his face. “Yeah, Buck.” 

“Right. Glad we got that sorted,” Bucky said, stupidly. 

Steve winced a little. “I guess I did overstep?” 

Bucky scoffed. “Abso-fucking-lutely not.” 

And then, possessed by something he didn't even know he had, Bucky grabbed the collar of Steve's uniform, and pulled him back down, his turn to initiate the kiss. 

Steve made the most incredible, helpless noise against his lips, and pulled Bucky as close as humanly possible, and Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve's neck, burying his hand in soft (soft!) blond hair, rising up as far up on his feet as he could go. Steve seemed to get that hint, and moved his hands from Bucky's face to wrap around his waist, lifting him with such ease, Bucky felt dizzy from it. 

The kiss itself wasn't anything special, in terms of technique. It was little more than hard presses of chaste lips, and breath hissing through noses, but god. Bucky could feel it in his toes. It meant more than any well-practised mouth he'd ever come into contact with, because Steve was so eager, and so- god, he kissed like he needed Bucky to breathe. 

Steve broke the kiss with a press of lips to the corner of Bucky's mouth, to his cheekbone, next to his eye, and Bucky gasped, his hand tightening in Steve's hair. 

“Just- just to confirm, for my own health, you are saying yes?” Steve said, and Bucky was giddy with how dazed he sounded. 

“You kiss all your friends like that?” Bucky said, grinning lazily. 

Steve laugh-groaned into Bucky's neck. Bucky laughed at that. 

“Yes. Yes, I will go on an actual date with you,” he said, and Steve was so quick to press their lips back together that Bucky's brain fell out for the third time. They broke apart after a few moments, Bucky leaving his eyes shut for another moment more. “Keep doing that and I will probably agree to anything.” 

“I'll try to use that power for good,” Steve said, delightedly. Bucky opened his eyes and was near blinded by his smile. 

“Did you want to come in?” Bucky asked, and maybe he was a little breathless, and maybe his heart stuttered in his chest at how dark Steve's eyes got, like he knew exactly what that meant-

Steve groaned, somewhat helplessly. “Yes, yes I would very much like to, but I did skip out on a debriefing to be here, and my sense of duty is now telling me to go back.” 

“Your sense of duty came back because you came here and kissed me,” Bucky said, aiming for deadpan, but his stupid smile would not leave his face. 

Steve winked, and set Bucky back down. Bucky loosened his grip on Steve's neck, but left his hand there. Steve's hands rested comfortably on Bucky's waist. "You are incredibly distracting to not just my sense of duty."

Just friends, Bucky had thought. God, he was an idiot. He was going to go back in time and kick his own ass. 

“Tomorrow?” Steve asked, thumbs digging in to Bucky's hipbone. Bucky bit down hard on his lip to stop that particular gasp. 

“Tomorrow, the day after, hell. Take the whole week,” Bucky replied. 

Steve smirked. “That sounds like a challenge, and we both know how much I like those.” 

“I will literally have a heart attack and die, right now, if you keep flirting with me like that,” Bucky accused. 

Steve laughed, bright and joyful. “Then I will see you tomorrow, Buck. Go back to sleep,” he said, kissing Bucky one more time, and then maybe Bucky chased after him for a second, and then Steve had to firmly step back from him, flexing his hands like he would like nothing more than to put them right back on Bucky's hips. 

Bucky would not be opposed to that. 

“Tomorrow,” Bucky confirmed. 

Steve flashed him one last purely happy smile, and headed back out. 

Bucky watched him go, and his hand drifted up to touch his lips. 

In something of a daze, he went back inside, locking his door, and climbed back into bed. 

\--

 **11:12am**  
 **Me** : okay, im awake for real this time, and i have to ask...that really happened right  
 **Steve** : You have no idea how tempted I was to text 'What happened?'  
 **Me** : i wouldve killed you in real life  
 **Steve** : Haha!   
**Steve** : Yes, Buck. It actually happened. You're not having second thoughts?  
 **Me** : do not be stupid, steve. god that is literally the stupidest thing ive ever seen  
 **Steve** : So, I'll pick you up at 5 tomorrow, then?  
 **Me** : absolutely.   
**Me** : holy fucking shit, tho. that actually happened  
 **Steve** : Yeah. Yeah, it did.   
**Steve** : Holy fucking shit, indeed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haha, wow this got away from me.  
> originally this was going to have a hospital scene in it as well, but i got to 5k words and was like...yeah that is MORE than enough.
> 
> enjoy!

**Unknown number** : I'm currently helping Steve without outfit ideas, so if you need any input, let me know.  
**Me** : ...nat?  
**Unknown number** : Obviously.  
_Number saved: Nat_  
**Me** : how did you get my number?  
**Me** : actually i already know the answer to that question  
**Nat** : And even if you didn't, I wouldn't tell you.  
**Me** : you're helping steve pick an outfit?  
**Me** : ...is this because he's taking me somewhere fancy  
**Nat** : No. It's because he's hopeless. He keeps pulling out the same blue button up.  
**Me** : you know he's going to wear it no matter what you pick  
**Nat** : I will burn it before that happens.  
  
\--  
  
“Steve, please, that shirt-” Nat started, for the third time.  
  
Steve held it up again. “It's nice! And it's smart casual. I think.”  
  
Nat ripped the shirt out of his hands, crushing it into a ball and throwing it into the furthest corner of the room. “No. You're going to a restaurant. Not to a Veteran's ball.”  
  
Steve frowned. “It's going to be all creased now.” He tried very hard not to laugh at Nat's disgusted noise.  
  
“No. No, you are no longer allowed to make this choice. I am picking,” she said, pushing past him to get at his closet. Steve sighed, but let her tear through his meagre selection.  
  
“I wouldn't worry about it so much, dude. You've seen what she wears. She knows what she's doing,” Clint said, from his perch on the bed.  
  
“I'm mostly doing it now to annoy her,” Steve said, grinning when Nat looked over her shoulder to give him a murderous look.  
  
“'cause you're nervous?” Clint said, smiling knowingly.  
  
Steve frowned at him. Damn it. “Why am I friends with two spies?” He muttered.  
  
“Because your other choice was Tony,” Nat said, pulling out a short-sleeved button up.  
  
“You are nervous, though,” Clint repeated.  
  
“Yes. I am,” Steve said, not bothering to try and avoid the truth. Besides, Clint and Nat were his friends. As annoying as it was that they seemed to see all.  
  
“Why? I mean, you guys have been all over each other since you met,” Clint said, sprawling across the bed.  
  
“That's probably why, Clint. It's easier sometimes, without a label,” Nat said, managing to pay attention to the conversation even as she pulled additional things from Steve's closet.  
  
“I'm nervous because I haven't been on a date in 70 years,” Steve said, slumping onto the bed next to Clint. “And the last one I went on ended in the first half-hour.”  
  
“Eesh. That had to sting,” Clint said, rubbing Steve's back comfortingly. With his foot.  
  
“Well, the whole sickly, skinny thing didn't fly with a lot of girls back in the day,” Steve said, rubbing his hands over his face.  
  
“I thought you and Peggy Carter had a thing going,” Nat said, still half-distracted.  
  
Steve let out a bark of laughter. “God, when did we have the chance? When I wasn't dragging the Commandos all over Europe, we were in briefings of some kind or another. If we had a 'thing' going, we certainly never got the chance to make it something permanent.”  
  
“So...this is like, your first real date?” Clint said.  
  
Steve said nothing.  
  
“Oh. Wow,” Clint said, and Steve could feel his eyes going sympathetic.  
  
“Stop, it's fine,” Steve said, reaching a hand behind him to bat at his foot.  
  
“No wonder you're so nervous,” Nat said, heading over to the bed with clothing stacked in her arms.  
  
“I also really don't want to screw this up,” Steve said. “Bucky's- he's important.”  
  
“Awwwwww,” Nat and Clint said in unison, Nat making her eyes go big and her mouth pouty. Steve gave her a withering look.  
  
“I'm never telling either of you anything ever again,” Steve said, standing so he could make room for Nat to lay clothes out.  
  
“Sure you won't,” Clint said, grinning knowingly. Steve resisted the urge to push him off the bed.  
  
Nat laid out two options, and Steve was willing to admit that they were both better options than anything he would've picked out.  
  
“We're definitely sticking with blue. It's your colour,” Nat said.  
  
“You're not saying that just because of the uniform, right?” Steve deadpanned.  
  
“Actually, it brings out your eyes. As would slate grey, but you are so low on anything that isn't blue, brown, or fucking checked,” Nat pointed out, maybe a little angrier than Steve thought necessary, but it did make him laugh.  
  
“I haven't needed to get anything new for a while,” Steve said, peering at the two options on the bed. Both short sleeved shirts, one a button up, one with dark jeans, the other dark blue pants.  
  
“I like the button up. Adds a little bit of class, while also making sure you don't overheat to death,” Clint offered.  
  
“It's not that warm,” Steve said.  
  
“It's nearly June, Steve. Summer. You will regret wearing long sleeves.”  
  
“I actually agree with Clint. This is a little more casual,” Nat said. “And I think you could wear that brown jacket you love so much.”  
  
“I thought I was gonna overheat,” Steve smirked.  
  
“I mean, taking it off would be a great reveal for the incredible arms you're always hiding away,” Clint said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Steve opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked down at his arms.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, definitely do that,” Nat agreed. “And watch with delight as Bucky's jaw drops.”  
  
Steve could see the appeal of that idea.  
  
\--  
  
At 4.45, Bucky started to question reality. He could look at his phone, see the very texts that proved that, yes, he was going on a date with Steve Rogers. He could see firm confirmation that Steve and Bucky had in fact kissed yesterday morning. He had the memories playing on repeat in his brain.  
  
And yet, there was still a part of him that was chanting over and over that he had imagined the whole thing, texts included, in some sort of loneliness fit.  
  
“You. Are. Being. Ridiculous,” he told himself in the mirror, and then checked his hair, which was fine. Unchanged from the last time he checked it, five minutes ago. He checked his outfit, which again, was fine. Patterned shirt, dark pants. It was going to be a mild night, so he wouldn't bother with a jacket.  
  
He looked fine. Good, even! There was absolutely no need to be worried-  
  
His phone chimed, and he nearly leapt out of his skin.  
  
“Jesus- fucking,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone off the counter, unlocking it.  
  
**Elise** : How'd you go?  
**Me** : fine, i found that shirt you gave me last year  
**Elise** : Thistle is demanding a photo and so. Am. I.  
  
Bucky grinned. He took a photo in the full length mirror behind the bathroom door, and sent it to Elise.  
  
He got back a chain of fire, heart, and eye emojis. Well. That went a long way to soothe his nerves.  
  
**Thistle** : go get him, tiger ;) ;)  
  
Bucky locked his phone, put it in his pocket, and walked out into the living room to find his wallet. Once he found it, he tucked it into his back pocket, and pulled his phone out again.  
  
And groaned. The time was 4.49.  
  
Jesus, was it too much to hope that Steve would be early? If only to put Bucky out of his misery?  
  
His phone chimed again.  
  
**Becca** : im booooooooooored  
**Becca** : and theres nothin good to waaaaaaatch  
**Becca** : and i finished that game u got me  
**Becca** : buckyyyyyyyyyyyy  
**Becca** : (this is my not so subtle way of inviting you to come and entertain me)  
  
Bucky grinned, and typed out a response.  
  
**Me** : im actually going on a date-  
  
Bucky stopped, grinned, and deleted it. She didn't deserve the satisfaction of being right, not just yet.  
  
**Me** : nah. got my hand full with washing my hair  
**Becca** : u suck  
**Becca** : im unfriending u on facebook and also life  
**Me** : nooooooooooo  
  
Chime.  
  
**Steve** : I'm here. Come downstairs.  
  
Bucky actually froze. Oh my god. It was real. It was happening. Holy shit.  
  
“Fuck, stop panicking,” Bucky chided himself, and took a deep breath. Right. Date. Date with Steve.  
  
He grabbed his keys from the dish, and left the apartment, locking it behind him. He tried not to pace in the elevator, and wondered where this restless energy lived in his body. He certainly didn't have it when he actually bothered to go to the gym.  
  
Maybe Steve's boundless energy was rubbing off on him. Don't put that in any other context, Bucky. Stop that train of thought, do not think of rubbing off-  
  
The elevator hit ground floor, and Bucky's heart started thudding so hard, he would not be surprised if Steve could hear it from there. He took another deep breath, and walked towards the doors, pausing just one moment to straighten his shirt of non-existent creases. He pushed open the doors, and headed out onto the street.  
  
Steve was leaning on a bright red car that looked more expensive than everything in Bucky's apartment combined, which was impressive enough.  
  
What was better by an enormous margin was Steve. Steve in blue and black, familiar brown jacket over the top, his hair looking soft and golden in the early evening sun. Bucky was fully aware he was probably staring at him in a way that would be uncomfortable for any onlookers, but he found he didn't particularly care.  
  
Steve was unnaturally beautiful, and for some unbelievably lucky reason, he liked Bucky. Thank you, universe.  
  
Steve pulled his phone out of his pocket, and frowned at it. Bucky realised that was his cue to stop staring at him from the doorway and actually go over and greet his date. Steve. Steve Rogers. Who he was going on a date with.  
  
By some small miracle, he started moving forward, and Steve, probably hearing his footsteps, looked over.  
  
And smiled. Bucky's breath just about stopped in his throat. Who needed oxygen, anyway?  
  
“Hey, Buck,” he called, and pushed off the car to stand up straight.  
  
“Hey, yourself,” Bucky said, gesturing at the entirety of Steve.  
  
Steve blushed, and looked down. “It's all Nat's choice.”  
  
“I know, she asked me if I needed help,” Bucky laughed.  
  
“Clearly you didn't,” Steve said, looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes.  
  
It's fine. Bucky didn't need that heart, anyway.  
  
“Thanks, Steve,” he said softly.  
  
They stood there, about a metre apart, just staring at each other, for a long moment.  
  
“Why are we just...standing here?” Steve finally asked, sounding confused.  
  
Bucky laughed. “I think we managed to daze each other into silence.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you're a danger to society, looking that good,” Steve said, grinning.  
  
“Me? What about you!” Bucky said, gesturing wildly again. Steve stepped closer, and grabbed that hand, twining their fingers together.  
  
“I had to impress this guy. I'm a little invested in him thinking well of me,” he said, and Bucky applauded his own restraint, that his only reaction was to smile. And yeah, it was big, and fond, but god that was the sweetest thing Bucky had heard since Steve had said 'I'm sweet on you.'  
  
“I'm absolutely certain you impressed him,” Bucky said.  
  
Steve smiled, impossibly beautiful, and stepped that last bit of distance between them, to cup Bucky's head and lean down to kiss him. Bucky tightened his hold on Steve's hand, and rose up a bit to deepen the kiss. If it was possible to do nothing but kiss Steve Rogers for the rest of his life, Bucky would throw everything else aside for that chance.  
  
He was pretty sure Becca would approve.  
  
Eventually Steve gently pulled back, laughing when Bucky frowned at him. He kissed him again, first his top lip, then his bottom, and Bucky let that fond smile return.  
  
“We will definitely miss our reservation if I keep getting distracted,” Steve murmured, and Bucky could feel the heat of his breath on his lips.  
  
“Oh well. Win some, lose some,” Bucky said, and if he was a little breathless, Steve didn't seem to mind. In fact he seemed to like it very much, as he leaned back in again. Bucky was very happy to continue a very thorough investigation of just how good Steve was at kissing him.  
  
Steve pulled back again, this time taking in a deep breath, like it was affecting him so much. Like kissing Bucky was some kind of potent drug that could actually affect him. Bucky very much let that go to his head.  
  
Steve kissed his cheek, and then stepped back, the hand cupping Bucky's cheek going back into his pocket. “Really, though,” he said, firmly.  
  
“Fine,” Bucky said, aiming to sound petulant, but was too busy keeping back a bout of pleased laughter.  
  
“Come on,” Steve said, tugging him towards the car. Bucky went willingly, even though a large part of him wouldn't mind just dragging Steve upstairs.  
  
“Whose car is this, anyway?” Bucky asked, as Steve unlocked it.  
  
“Tony's.”  
  
“Does he know you've got it?”  
  
Steve shrugged. “He does now.”  
  
Bucky laughed, and then tried not to pout when Steve dropped his hand to round the car. Bucky slid into the passenger seat, trying not to gape at the plush interior. “Yeah, even if I didn't know this was Tony Stark's car, I would know now.”  
  
“He does have a certain flair,” Steve said, grinning at Bucky at the shared joke.  
  
Bucky was not particularly a car person, but even he found something very alluring about the sound it made when Steve turned the key.  
  
“Wow,” he commented.  
  
Steve winked at him, a playful half-smirk on his face. “Ready, Barnes?”  
  
Bucky smirked at him. “Take me out, Rogers."  
  
Steve put the car in gear, and Bucky braced himself.  
  
\--  
  
Steve rounded the car to open the passenger door, and delighted in the pleased smile on Bucky's face. “Quite the gentleman,” he said, taking Steve's offered hand.  
  
“I'm afraid it's entirely selfish. I just really like touching you,” Steve said, pulling Bucky closer, like he wanted to prove that point.  
  
Bucky went easily, leaning in close to Steve's body. “Feeling's pretty much mutual,” he said, and Steve kissed him, if only to get that smirk off his face. He was sure to make it just the one, though, even as much as he wanted to just push Bucky against the car and kiss him until the entire world fell away.  
  
Steve closed the car door, and locked it. “We're just around here,” he said, leading Bucky out of the parking lot, and onto the main strip. It was busy enough, so Steve tightened his hold on Bucky as they walked side by side.  
  
“I'm curious now. This is a very hip and cool neighbourhood,” Bucky said, staring up at each place they passed.  
  
“I'm insulted. I know things that are hip and cool,” Steve said, grinning down at Bucky.  
  
“But really, who helped you?” Bucky said, giving him a knowing look at wouldn't look out of place on Nat's face.  
  
Steve frowned at Bucky, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his smile. “I won't admit I had help. You're going to just have to trust that I have good taste. Which, considering who I'm with, should not come as a surprise to you,” Steve said, raising their joined hands to his chest.  
  
Bucky looked up at him, and blushed. “God, that's sappy. You say that to all the girls and boys?”  
  
“I've actually been saving up all of my lines for you,” Steve said, kissing Bucky's temple.  
  
“Okay, you need to stop that before I spontaneously combust,” Bucky said, his hand squeezing Steve's.  
  
“We can't have that, now,” Steve said, trying to not blind Bucky with his smile. His heart was the lightest he can remember it being in a long, long time.  
  
Steve stopped in front of a very nondescript looking building, with a small door tucked between a bookshop and a bar. He turned to look at Bucky, who raised an eyebrow at him. Steve smiled knowingly, and pulled him towards the door.  
  
Behind it was a set of steps, and then another door, this one with 'Workshop' emblazoned on it.  
  
“I am growing more and more suspicious that you made a mistake,” Bucky said, and Steve could hear the laugh.  
  
“Trust me, Buck,” he said, and felt Bucky's hand squeeze his again.  
  
He pushed open the door, and held it open while Bucky walked through, and watched, very pleased, as Bucky's eyes widened.  
  
The restaurant walls had huge glass windows, giving gorgeous views of the busy New York borough, and every inch that wasn't glass was covered in greenery. The whole space was lit just enough to see, and dim enough to make every table feel intimate.  
  
“Steve- where did you find this place?” Bucky said, turning big, amazed eyes on him.  
  
“Whatever I say is definitely going to be a lie, if only to impress you,” Steve said, and pretended to wince when Bucky elbowed him.  
  
“Hi guys! Table for two?” A waitress, with a riot of messy red curls, walked up to them.  
  
“Yeah, reservation for Grant?” Steve said, and felt Bucky's hand twitch in his, like he was going to let go, then changed his mind. What was that about?  
  
“I'll go check that! Be right back.” The waitress headed over to the bar.  
  
Steve nudged Bucky. “You okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I just- it's easier to forget that other people are there, until there's someone right in front of us. I don't want to bring anything down on you. PDA isn't worth people invading your privacy,” Bucky said, leaning into his shoulder.  
  
Steve curled his body towards Bucky. “Don't worry about that. I'm getting something that I would never have gotten 70 years ago. I get to hold your hand, and hold you, and kiss you, in public, without the constant fear of being found out. You are helping me experience actually being myself,” he murmured in Bucky's ear, dropping a kiss underneath it.  
  
Bucky smiled, comfortable and sweet, and Steve smiled back, restraining the urge to properly kiss him, seeing the waitress coming back. He straightened a little, but tightened his grip on Bucky's hand, feeling assured when Bucky did the same.  
  
“Right this way, Grant,” she said, and led the way through the restaurant, taking them to a table right next to a window. “I'll be back to take drink orders in just a moment.”  
  
“Thank you,” Steve said, and she went back the way she came. He looked back at Bucky. “Here comes a very awful part,” he said, seriously.  
  
Bucky sighed, and turned mock-sad eyes on him. “We have to let go.”  
  
“I know. It's terrible,” Steve said, pretending to sob, which earned him another elbow to the gut.  
  
Bucky made a huge show of letting Steve's hand go, which had Steve laughing, unable to keep up the act.  
  
Before he sat down, Steve slid his jacket off, realising that Clint had been right, and it was getting far too warm for it. He hung it on the back of his chair, and turned to sit, catching sight of Bucky's face.  
  
Nat had been right too, it seemed.  
  
“It, uh, just occurred to me that I hadn't seen you out of long-sleeves before,” Bucky said, and his voice was somewhat weak.  
  
Steve crossed his arms on the table, leaning forward. “What, you see something you like, Barnes?”  
  
That earned him a balled-up napkin to the face. He caught it, and threw it back, grinning all the while.  
  
\--  
  
Over his second glass of wine, Bucky stared Steve down. Steve stared back just as seriously, even going as far as to raise an eyebrow.  
  
“Admit it,” Bucky said.  
  
“Never,” Steve fired back, narrowing his eyes.  
  
“Admit it, Rogers.”  
  
“Make me, Barnes.”  
  
“You know I'm right.”  
  
“I will never, ever. You don't know they're not listening.”  
  
“The truth will come out eventually.”  
  
“No. I will take it to my grave.”  
  
Bucky narrowed his eyes, and put his wine glass down, so he could lean his elbow on the table, leaning in close to Steve.  
  
“Admit. It,” he said, smiling triumphantly.  
  
Steve glared at him, and crossed his arms, looking as obstinate as all the Commandos' once said he was.  
  
But Bucky knew he would crack.  
  
Steve sighed, and his arms fell to his sides. “Fine. Yes. Nat is my favourite.”  
  
“Ha! Knew it,” Bucky said, taking a victorious sip of wine.  
  
“I'm going to wake up tomorrow with an arrow above my head, if I'm lucky,” Steve muttered darkly, but there was a dancing light in his eyes.  
  
\--  
  
“I was a sniper,” Bucky said, and let his fork lay in his bowl. “Pretty good. Enough to earn my stripes.”  
  
Steve reached over to take his now freed hand. “You trained for it?”  
  
“Yeah. Naturally good accuracy. They picked up on it during basic. They put a rifle in my hands and I guess I proved I could handle it,” Bucky said, and while he looked the picture of casual, Steve felt the slight tremble in his hand.  
  
He laced their fingers together. “Bad topic?”  
  
“No, it's okay. You wanted to know, and it's not like my military career is a secret,” Bucky said, running his thumb down down Steve's forefinger.  
  
“You're allowed to not answer questions, Buck.”  
  
“It's easier to answer the ones coming from you,” Bucky said, with startling honesty. Steve blinked. “I want you to feel we have equal ground.”  
  
“I do feel that way,” Steve protested. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable, just so I know more about you.”  
  
“If it gets too much, I can tell you. I have the ability,” Bucky said, teasing Steve a bit. That was enough to soothe Steve a little.  
  
“Promise?” Steve asked.  
  
“Cross my heart. Or I would, if a certain someone would let my hand go,” Bucky said, not sounding put out about it at all.  
  
Steve grinned cheerily, and tightened his hold.  
  
Bucky laughed. “Steve, I need it back. I have to eat my food.”  
  
Steve frowned, pouting like a child, but let him have his hand back.  
  
\--  
  
Bucky tapped his chin, abandoning his spoon into their shared desert. “Okay. I used to grow herbs on the windowsill, I had a cat named Alpine, or I once broke my arm trying to impress a guy.”  
  
“That last one's too vague, what were you doing to impress him?” Steve questioned.  
  
“It was during boxing camp. I was trying to prove you could stand on the ropes.”  
  
Steve peered at him, analyzing him. Calculating which was the truth. Bucky laughed silently as his brow furrowed.  
  
Steve finally leaned forward, pointing at him. “The cat one.”  
  
Bucky shook his head. “Next door neighbour's cat.”  
  
Steve gaped. “You broke your arm trying to balance on a boxing ring's ropes?”  
  
Bucky smirked. “I used to grow herbs on my windowsill.”  
  
Steve made a scathing noise, and Bucky laughed, grinning at him. “You're too good at this. You should challenge Nat,” Steve said. “I would pay to see that.”  
  
“I'll take it under consideration. Your turn,” Bucky said, taking his spoon up again.  
  
Steve leaned on his hands, thinking. Bucky took three spoonfuls before he sat up again. “Right. The first Howlie I asked was Morita, my favourite book is A Farewell To Arms, and the first colour I ever saw was blue.”  
  
“Wait, what do you mean, first colour you saw?” Bucky questioned.  
  
Steve raised his eyebrows at him. “You haven't seen my enlistment form?”  
  
“No, I must've missed that. High school was a very long time ago.”  
  
Steve smiled. “So you don't know all my secrets,” he said, and Bucky felt warmed by it. Maybe he was right, and they were already on equal footing. “Well. Before the serum, I was colourblind.”  
  
“Completely?”  
  
“Entirely.”  
  
Bucky felt a surge of protectiveness for pre-serum Steve. Even if that wasn't the worst health problem he had, not to see the world in colour-  
  
“You're not a Hemingway fan,” Bucky said definitively.  
  
Steve grinned. “Not at all.”  
  
“You really asked Morita first?” Bucky guessed.  
  
Steve shook his head, but it wasn't to say no. He looked too disbelieving. “How did you know?”  
  
“I was torn for a moment, but I saw you look at my shirt, when you said blue. My shirt is red.”  
  
“And from that you knew it was a lie?” Steve said, and he looked in awe at Bucky, enough that Bucky's face started to match his shirt.  
  
“It was a guess,” Bucky said.  
  
Steve smiled at him. “Peggy favoured red lipstick,” he said.  
  
“The first colour you saw was red.”  
  
“Yeah, Buck,” Steve said softly.  
  
\--  
  
The waitress printed out the bill, and Steve started to take his wallet out, even as he checked over the items.  
  
“Do not take his card,” Bucky said, trying to pass his over to the waitress. Steve took it out of his hand.  
  
“No, absolutely not,” he said, tucking it back in Bucky's pocket.  
  
“Come on, Steve, I have a streak to keep,” Bucky said, grinning in a shark-like manner that again reminded Steve of Nat. Terrifying.  
  
“I bought you coffee! Like three days ago!”  
  
“That didn't count,” Bucky said, scoffing. He was already taking his card back out.  
  
“I am so sorry about this, ma'am,” Steve said to the waitress, who didn't have time to respond, before Steve kissed Bucky, and while Bucky was distracted, handed his own card over. Steve broke away from Bucky, winking at him, as the waitress ran his card and gave it back to him.  
  
“That was unbelievably underhanded,” Bucky said, trying to look put out, but really only looking pleased.  
  
“Whatever it takes, Barnes,” Steve said, tucking his wallet away, and thanking the waitress again.  
  
“Have a good night, guys!” She said, sounding on the verge of laughter.  
  
Steve took Bucky's hand, and pulled him back into the night.  
  
\--  
  
Steve walked Bucky all the way up to his apartment door, and while he did drop Bucky's hand so that Bucky could let himself in, he kept a hand on Bucky's back, like he had to be touching some part of him. Bucky was entirely for that idea, and could see himself encouraging it heartily for the rest of time.  
  
He pushed his door open, then turned and lent against the door frame. Steve stepped closer, dropping his hands onto Bucky's hips. His thumbs dug in, just enough to send shivers through Bucky, just like yesterday morning.  
  
“So,” Steve said.  
  
“So,” Bucky replied, running his hand up and down Steve's arm.  
  
“You think I'll get a second date?” Steve asked, his grin lazy and warm.  
  
“You could always come in. We can call tomorrow morning a second date,” Bucky said, leaning a little bit further into Steve's space, absolutely delighting in the way Steve's breath seemed to shallow.  
  
“Buck,” he said, low. Like a warning. His hands slipped further up, coming to rest on Bucky's waist.  
  
“Steve,” Bucky said, and stepped closer, so they were chest to chest.  
  
“Bucky, I am trying to form rational thoughts.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“You are not helping.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
“Bucky,” Steve whine-laughed, and dropped his head onto Bucky's shoulder. Bucky threaded his hand into his soft, golden hair.  
  
After a moment, Steve's thumbs stilled from rubbing small circles onto Bucky's waist, and he looked back up. “I really want to do this right,” he said, seriously.  
  
Bucky tilted his head. “You really already are.”  
  
“No, I mean, court you properly.”  
  
Bucky laughed. “Court me. Am I a medieval duchess?”  
  
“You know what I mean,” Steve said, squeezing his waist.  
  
“Yeah. You want to take it slow,” Bucky said, and felt a thrill of warmth. “You're a real romantic, aren't you Rogers?”  
  
Steve finally leaned in then, and Bucky lost himself for a few moments, choosing instead to focus on Steve's lips moving against his, Steve's fingers gripping him tight, and then moving across his back to hold him close, the soft sound of his breath every time they parted for a moment.  
  
Once they did part properly, Steve's eyes were more black than blue, and yet Bucky was still amazed by the bright colour.  
  
Was that a tiny fleck of green in there too?  
  
“I am. And I want to show you that. It's what you deserve,” Steve whispered.  
  
And, well. Bucky was only human.  
  
“Then you definitely get a second date.”  
  
He drew Steve back in, kissing him.  
  
\--  
  
**frieda @ avenger fan @kahlol**  
okay so i was at work tonight, and a guy that looked A LOT like steve rogers came in  
  
**frieda @ avenger fan @kahlol**  
and like, he was so friendly and nice and he tipped really well  
  
**frieda @ avenger fan @kahlol**  
and i am 100% certain he was on a date  
  
**frieda @ avenger fan @kahlol**  
and i am 100% certain because they freaking kissed right in front of me  
  
**frieda @ avenger fan @kahlol**  
it was adorable and while im not like, sure it was steve rogers, it was still like the cutest thing  
  
**captaincanada @rogerroger**  
_replying to @kahlol_  
WHOMST WHOMST WAS THE DATE  
  
**val @flowerslanguage**  
_replying to @kahlol_  
IM SORRY WHAT  
  
**& && @mindingbusiness  
**_replying to @kahlol_  
ohmgod ohmgD FRIEDA WHO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting to promo my other socials, so if you want, follow me on Twitter and tumblr with the same username :)
> 
> ps. As a waitress myself, please don’t ask us to pick between who’s paying, we will probably cry


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands, part deux*
> 
> EDIT: Now with INCREDIBLE art by the amazing [Em](https://twitter.com/emdibuja)!

“I'm trying to tell you a story, and you are ignoring me,” Bucky said, reaching over to pluck Becca's phone out of her hands from his position against the wall, legs over hers.  
  
Becca snatched her phone back. “I'm texting Steve,” she said, turning her nose up at him.  
  
“Oh, yeah? What for?” Bucky said, and felt like he should win an award for how nonchalant he sounded.  
  
“We had a conversation the other day, and I was wondering if he had given what I said any additional thought,” she said, frowning at her phone. “But he's not replying.”  
  
“He might be biking over,” Bucky said, shrugging. “Can you please pay attention to me now?”  
  
“If I give you any attention, you'll get an ego, and it will be that much harder to bully you,” Becca shot back, poking her tongue out at him. Bucky flicked her ear in response, overestimating his balance and nearly falling over. “Ha!” Becca poked him. Bucky pretended it was a mortal wound, and actually collapsed onto her.  
  
“I'm dead now. Look what you've done,” he mumbled into her side.  
  
“Good. Stay dead,” Becca said, petting his hair.  
  
“I'd rather him alive, actually,” Steve's voice said from the doorway. Bucky pushed himself up, to twist and look around at him. Steve beamed at him, and Bucky could not help but grin back. “You are both such children.”  
  
“I have been texting you, like, all morning. What gives, man?” Becca said, accusingly.  
  
Steve gestured with the coffees he held in both hands, gently, as a third cup was balanced on one. “Hands full! Sorry, Becca. What were you trying to tell me?” He headed into the room, putting the three cups down on the bedside table.  
  
“What we spoke about the other day?” Becca said, meaningfully. Bucky pressed his face into his shoulder to stop him from laughing.  
  
“Right, that. Well, I did think about it,” Steve said, and Bucky could imagine the shit-eating grin.  
  
“And?” Becca pressed. Bucky chanced a look up, and her face was imploring and serious, and he really had to look away again or he was going to laugh.  
  
“Hang on a sec, need to say hello to Bucky,” Steve said, and leaned over Becca to reach Bucky.  
  
“Just say hello, then!” Becca grumped.  
  
Bucky looked up at Steve, grinning at their shared joke. “Hi,” he said.  
  
“Morning,” Steve replied, and pressed their lips together in a quick, chaste kiss. It still sent warmth zinging down Bucky's spine. Steve pulled away with that smirk, and sat back in his chair.  
  
They both looked at Becca.  
  
She stared at Steve, like she couldn't believe what she just saw. Her mouth opened and closed, like every time she was trying to ask a question, but couldn't find the actual words. She then turned to Bucky, and her frown deepened as she pointed at him. Bucky snorted, as his shoulders shook with barely suppressed laughter.  
  
There was a moment where it seemed like Becca was actually struggling to work out what happened. And then-  
  
“I AM GOING TO KILL YOU ASSHOLES!” She screamed, delightedly. She punched Bucky's arm, her smile so wide it looked almost painful.  
  
“Please don't punch him, I need him intact,” Steve said, laughing with her.  
  
“Wait! Wait a fucking second, Steve,” Becca said, turning an accusatory look on him. “I spoke to you like, three days ago.”  
  
“He worked very quick,” Bucky said, winking at Steve, who had the audacity to wink back. The punk. Bucky was going to throw himself at him.  
  
“So, timeline of events? Spoke to you, got back the next morning, went to Bucky's, asked Bucky out, first date last night,” Steve listed off, in military precision.  
  
Becca blinked. “Jesus. You really did listen to me,” she said. She sounded a little dazed at that.  
  
“Well, yeah. You weren't wrong,” Steve said, gentle. He took her hand and squeezed it. She smiled back, genuine and bright. Bucky tried to pull his phone out sneakily, but before he could get it out the whole way, Becca smacked his chest.  
  
“Becca, ow,” Bucky whined.  
  
Becca was giving him a weirdly delighted glare. “I texted you last night to come over,” she said, something dawning in her eyes. “Washing your hair, you said. I knew that was an excuse for something.”  
  
“I didn't want to admit you were right that quickly,” Bucky said, bracing himself to get one of her weak hits again.  
  
What he got instead, was an armful of bony girl as Becca flung herself on him, squealing. “You ditched me to go on a date! Bucky!”  
  
“Woah, woah, Becs,” Bucky said, trying to grab hold of her and also stay upright. “Please lie back down-”  
  
“I cannot believe it. I cannot. You practically live here, and you ditched me to go on a date!” She hugged him as tight as her trembling body would allow, and Bucky could feel the tension in her back as she tried to hold back how much it was hurting her.  
  
“Okay, okay, lie back down now, please,” Bucky begged, trying to lie her down without falling on top of her.  
  
“I am so fucking proud of you!” She said, and then was being pulled away from him. Bucky smiled as she turned a glare on Steve, who was gently lying her back down, using very little of his super-human strength. “Fine!” She grumped, lying back down, but her mad face was quickly a smile again, beaming at them both. “I'm guessing it went well, then?”  
  
“I'd say so,” Steve said, staring straight at Bucky, and Bucky knew they were both thinking of the same thing. It had been weirdly hard to look at his door frame this morning.  
  
“As far as dates go, it wasn't entirely awful,” Bucky teased, and got a mock-gasp in reply.  
  
“And after I got you a coffee and everything,” Steve said, shaking his head.  
  
“You may have bought me it, but here's my hand, devoid of it,” Bucky said, gesturing with said hand.  
  
Steve gave him a look, barely restraining his smile, and passed one of the cups over. “Black, extra hot. Even though you complain every time.”  
  
“I will never change,” Bucky agreed, and took a sip, promptly burning his tongue. “Ow.”  
  
Steve rolled his eyes, and passed the third cup over to Becca. She had been grinning at the two of them, but when the cup was in her hands, her smile dimmed a lot. “I can't have coffee,” she said, and sounded apologetic.  
  
“It's tea. Peppermint. Talia said that was okay?” Steve said. “Herbal tea, anyway. If you don't like that, they also had lemongrass and ginger?”  
  
“Oh,” Becca said. She took a sip, and smiled. “Nah, this'll do.”  
  
“Good! I'll remember that for next time,” Steve said, leaning back with his own cup.  
  
Becca perked up, and raised her cup. “Well, boys,” she started, and Bucky raised an eyebrow at her. “To a successful first date-” she winked at them both. “-and many more, with lots of ditching me, and hopefully stretches of time, weeks, where I don't see Bucky-”  
  
“Becca.”  
  
“-because he's getting di-”  
  
“Becca!”  
  
She turned big, innocent eyes on him. “To a good second date?”  
  
“To a great second date,” Steve corrected.  
  
Bucky rolled his eyes, and answered Steve's grin with his own.  
  
The three of them touched coffee cups together. “Clink!” Becca said.  
  
\--  
  
Steve tilted his head to one side, and then the other.  
  
Bucky peered a little closer.  
  
“Yeah, I don't get it,” he said, and Steve nudged him.  
  
“You're not supposed to 'get' art. It inspires emotions. It's not there to be explained,” Steve said.  
  
Bucky frowned at the piece like it had insulted him, and Steve had to laugh. Quietly. “It just looks like...grey. It just looks grey.”  
  
“Okay, well, what does the grey make you feel?” Steve asked.  
  
“It makes me feel like we should've gone to the portrait gallery instead,” Bucky replied.  
  
“To me, it's life. Not black, not white, not the extremes. Not good and evil, night and day, but the in-between. Everything and nothing,” Steve said, peering again the piece.  
  
He was not expecting Bucky to step in front of him and go up on his toes to kiss him, but he wasn't going to complain. He wrapped his arms around his waist, clasping his hands on the small of Bucky's back.  
  
“What was that for?” Steve asked, once they parted enough.  
  
“You see something in everything,” Bucky said. There was something in that he wasn't saying, but he looked softly amazed and there was a lovely light in his eyes, so Steve let it go and leaned in again. For just one more kiss, because they were in an art gallery, and it felt rude to ignore the works of art.  
  
There was a joke there about Bucky being one of them, but Steve kept that to himself. For now, at least.  
  
He unwrapped one arm from Bucky, keeping the other around his waist as they wandered through the gallery, stopping to look closer at something. Steve was amazed by it all. Everything seemed so full of passion, something he wanted to duplicate in his own art, but then again. The Avengers and SHIELD didn't really give him a lot of time to take up a pencil again.  
  
“Okay, what's your read on this one?” Bucky said, sounding judgemental, as he pointed at a pile of fluorescent lights. Some were upright, others were splayed on the floor in what appeared to be a random order. They were on, otherwise Steve would've probably thought they were left there as replacements.  
  
“Hmmm.” Steve tilted his head left and right again. Then he got it. “Oh! The lights, see how some are pointing towards the upright ones? Representative of people. We are all the same, but some get raised higher. We see their light as brighter, but we all shine the same,” he said.  
  
“You have got to be bullshitting me,” Bucky laughed, partly disbelieving, partly amazed.  
  
“You really don't see it?”  
  
“It's a pile of lights, Steve!”  
  
“It's art. Glorious and real.”  
  
“Okay, well, I'm going to bring in the dirty dishes I have in my sink here, and lie them in a corner.”  
  
“Oh, yes, I can see it. A statement about the way we let material goods dirty our souls.”  
  
That got Steve a nudge, and he swayed on his feet, smiling toothily at Bucky.  
  
“That was definitely bullshit,” Bucky said.  
  
“Maybe a little,” Steve agreed. He squeezed Bucky's waist.  
  
They kept going through the gallery, Bucky continuing to be the world's most difficult art critic, and trading barbs with him was wonderful, and light-hearted, and was very much flirting. And he could do that, he could walk through a gallery, arm around Bucky, flirting with him. He could say whatever he wanted, and not care about what other people were seeing.  
  
This was worth it. Feeling this normal, made everything else make sense.  
  
They were nearly at the exit, Bucky telling him about an apparently fantastic Vietnamese place near here, when something caught Steve's eye.  
  
And he stopped abruptly. “Buck,” he said.  
  
“Yeah?” Bucky replied, and turned to face what Steve was looking at. “Oh.”  
  
Steve walked through to a small room, dimly lit, except for the lights on the floor, shining up at a huge sculpture. It was carved to look like a huge wave, the lip curling, the whole thing glittering like crystal. And maybe it was plastic, or glass, but it looked like the real thing, frozen in time.  
  
And in the centre of the wave, a twisted black shadow reached out, partially in the wave, and partially out, like it was struggling to escape.  
  
Steve's throat felt tight.  
  
“...Steve?” Bucky's voice was quiet. Steve apparently didn't need to interpret this one for him. Steve didn't reply, but did squeeze Bucky's side, just to let him know he was listening.  
  
After a while, Bucky spoke again. “It's sort of beautiful.”  
  
“It was,” Steve murmured. “Beautiful and terrifying.”  
  
Glass splintering, crashing. Water rushing over him, cold enough to feel like needles, piercing him all over, the force of it-  
  
Bucky moved out of his arm, and Steve immediately reached out to bring him back. “Buck-”  
  
“Hang on.” Bucky moved to his left, and wrapped his arm around Steve's waist. Steve relaxed into him, and pressed his face into Bucky's hair. “I got you. I got you, Stevie.”  
  
Steve kissed his temple. “I know.”

\--

 **say love @sapphosparrow**  
 __  
IS THIS OR IS THIS NOT STEVE ROGERS!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am firmly in the bucky camp, modern/post-modern art and I do not really have an understanding. And that fluorescent light thing is very real, I saw it at an art gallery in Canberra and what Steve said is what my dad said to me.  
> I maintain it was a pile of lights and dumb.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay! so the new upload schedule is fridays and mondays australia time! 
> 
> i have four more chapters written up, and i think it's going to be 2-4 more after that? depends on how my plan works out.  
> either way, enjoy this very self-indulgent chapter :)

**frieda @ stop outing people @kahlol**  
I thoroughly regret saying anything, nd the fckn reason i didn’t say anything about who steve was on a date with-  
  
**frieda @ stop outing people @kahlol**  
-is literally because what he does in his free time is his own goddamn business-  
  
**frieda @ stop outing people @kahlol**  
-he’s a fuckn person. stop.  
  
**frieda @ stop outing people @kahlol**  
AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF IT WAS HIM, AND THAT PICTURE MIGHT NOT EVEN BE HIM  
  
**frieda @ stop outing people @kahlol**  
y’all gross. leave people alone.  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @kahlol_  
Listen to the smart girl.  
  
**frieda @ stop outing people @kahlol**  
_replying to @stark_  
...oh my gD  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @kahlol_  
;)  
  
\--  
  
“You sure it doesn’t bother you?” Bucky sounded genuinely worried. Steve smiled, leaning back into the couch further.  
  
“It bothers me that it bothers you, and if it doesn’t, it’s fine,” Steve said, swapping the phone to his other ear. The one that used to be his bad one. “Times have changed. Things have changed. For the better.”  
  
“I just don’t want you to be forced to live your life that publicly. If you don’t want to.” Bucky sighed into the phone, and Steve wished that he wasn’t in a hotel on the other side of the country. Fiercely.  
  
“I don’t think anything needs to change. I was already in the public eye, you don’t go around in the stars and stripes and manage to stay anonymous.”  
  
“But you should have the chance, at least. To- it’s like what you said, at the bar. People want the idea of Captain America, and forget that Steve Rogers is there too. They think they know you, that they have the right to- well, to invade your personal life. And you should be given the option to live privately. Especially you. You’ve given enough.”  
  
Steve promptly forgot how to speak. He remembered that day, going to Elise and Thistle’s bar, Bucky taking his hand and telling him that Steve could be himself. He held that memory like something precious. And that was before they knew they liked each other.  
  
“Either you’ve gone silent or the call has dropped out?” Bucky questioned, and Steve startled back to reality.  
  
“Yeah, well. You’re very good at stunning me into silence, Bucky,” Steve murmured.  
  
Bucky’s laugh sounded a little shy, and Steve smiled brightly, again trying to just will himself next to him.  
  
“I mean it. If you want to, I don’t know, stop being so public-”  
  
“Okay, no, stop that immediately.” Steve sat up, focusing in the same way he did once the uniform was on. “Don’t go down that road.”  
  
“Steve, I don’t want you to have to come out if you’re not ready-”  
  
“Bucky, I’ve been ready to come out for...god. Eighty years? If we’re counting the frozen time.”  
  
“They are going to say awful things, Steve, things that-”  
  
“I’ve heard them all. Worse, probably.”  
  
“Not directed at you.”  
  
“I can handle it.”  
  
“You shouldn’t have to-'”  
  
“How was it for you? When you came out?” Steve asked, needing to get this across to Bucky.  
  
Bucky sighed. “It’s different for me. I’m not in the public eye.”  
  
“But how was it?”  
  
Bucky was silent for a moment, and then Steve heard him sigh again. “Fine. I didn’t have a lot of people to tell.”  
  
“You told the people who mattered, and then other people found out from there.”  
  
“I just stopped hiding it.”  
  
“And I don’t want to hide you,” Steve said, firmly.  
  
“God, you’re stubborn,” Bucky said, but he sounded like he was laughing. “I didn’t really relish the idea of dating secretly.”  
  
“Then nothing has to change. Let people think want they want. You know the truth. Becca, Nat and Clint know the truth. Everyone else can deal with it.”  
  
“Or Tony will keep shutting them down,” Bucky laughed.  
  
Steve groaned. “I feel like I’m going to have to get a twitter, if only to control him.”  
  
“Oh, people would love that. You should do it anyway,” Bucky said, the laugh continuing. Steve smiled.  
  
“I wish I was there with you,” he said, slumping back on the couch.  
  
“Me too,” Bucky said, his voice quiet. If Steve closed his eyes, he could imagine that he really was here.  
  
“Two more days,” Steve promised.  
  
“What time is it? You should sleep. You’ve gotta bust some heads in the morning.”  
  
“I will. Though I’m rebelling at the idea of hanging up.”  
  
“You? Rebelling? Never.”  
  
Steve laughed. “I wouldn’t tarnish my good reputation like that.”  
  
“Not like that, anyway,” Bucky said, and Steve could hear the smile.  
  
Steve checked the time on his watch, and groaned a little. “I should go.”  
  
“Probably smart,” Bucky agreed, but disappointedly. Steve could empathise with that.  
  
“What will you do tomorrow?”  
  
“Visit Becca. Maybe pine a little bit.”  
  
“Only a little?”  
  
“I’ll never tell.”  
  
Steve laughed. “All right. Say hi to her for me. And know that however much you pine, I’m probably doing the same.”  
  
“Well, that soothes my ego.”  
  
For a few moments, Steve listened to Bucky’s soft breathing, and with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back against the cushions, he could imagine he was there. He’d fallen asleep by Bucky, to the sound of his soft breathing. Maybe he had thrown an arm around his waist.  
  
“Good night, Steve. Good luck tomorrow,” Bucky said quietly, and Steve smiled.  
  
“Sleep well, Bucky.”  
  
“I will now.” He hung up, and Steve sat there for a good, long moment, smiling to himself.  
  
\--  
  
**Bucky** : so i was thinking  
**Bucky** : wait, you are on your way back now, right?  
**Me** : Hi, Buck. Yeah, about four hours out.  
**Bucky** : you all in one piece?  
**Me** : Yes.  
**Bucky** : ...did you get shot again?  
**Me** : No, idnwfaoesrkfdvc  
**Bucky** : steve?  
**Me** : hi its nat yes he did  
**Bucky** : thank you nat, at least i can trust someone to rat him out  
**Me** : It’s not that bad! It will be healed by the time you see me!  
**Bucky** : from now on im only asking nat if you’re okay. you can’t be trusted.  
**Me** : I’m fine, Buck. I swear.  
**Bucky** : yeah, right. i cannot believe i have to ask other people if my own goddamn boyfriend is okay because he wont tell me himself  
**Me** : Boyfriend?  
**Bucky** : not good? partner?  
**Bucky** : steve?  
  
\--  
  
**Nat** : What did you say to Steve? He’s sitting here, smiling dopily at his phone.  
**Me** : i called him my boyfriend  
**Nat** : Oh my god.  
**Nat** : Steve Rogers, confirmed Huge Softie.  
  
\--  
  
**James ‘Bucky’ Barnes** updated his status to **‘In A Relationship’**  
**Liked** : _Elise de le Serre, Thistle de le Serre, Rebecca ‘Becca’ Barnes_ , +6  
  
\--  
  
It had been Bucky’s idea to spend the day exploring Central Park, but it was Steve who turned up with a blanket and a basket, like something out of a romcom. Bucky was unable to not tease him, had to dull down exactly how much he loved that Steve had done that.  
  
They found a sunny spot that was relatively free of people, starting off on either side of the blanket, food between them, but Bucky gravitated closer and closer to Steve until he was tucked under his arm.  
  
Bucky stretched out, feeling something give in his shoulder, groaning appreciatively, before leaning back against Steve, who was propped up on his elbows, face turned up to the sun. He had a small, content smile on his lips, so Bucky had to lean over and kiss him. How could he not?  
  
Steve made a happy noise, and leaned in a little closer, enough that his nose brushed Bucky’s cheek, and Bucky smiled into it.  
  
“I’m considering the logistics of just never breathing out of my mouth again,” Bucky said, against Steve’s lips.  
  
He felt and heard Steve’s laugh. That- that was almost too good for Bucky’s brain to process. “I can get behind that idea.”  
  
“It would be difficult for you to go on missions,” Bucky said, between slow presses of lips.  
  
“Very distracting for whatever villain of the week, though. I could probably aim the shield just as well,” Steve murmured back, moving from the centre of Bucky’s lips to the corners, tracking downwards to his jaw. Bucky bit his lip against the sounds he really, really wanted to let out.  
  
“You’re already dangerously distracting. Probably shouldn’t make it too easy for yourself,” Bucky said. Well. Gasped.  
  
Steve, the absolute ass, smiled against Bucky’s neck. “Look who’s talking. I got sent out of the tower twice for thinking so much about you, I was basically useless.” His voice was low and gravely, and the sound vibrated through Bucky’s throat and down his chest.  
  
“You keep doing that, and we are definitely going to get slapped with a public indecency charge,” Bucky said, somewhat strangled.  
  
Steve looked up, kind of suddenly, and Bucky was confused, until he saw the genuine worry in his eyes. Bucky realised then, that that meant something different for him. Something different in a time gone by.  
  
“No, I mean, you are doing things to me that my body is going to react to and then people will not be happy, because we are in public,” Bucky said, grinning.  
  
Steve looked relieved, and then his eyes darkened. His smile was smug, and Bucky was willing to go along with literally anything that mouth was going to say.  
  
“Then we should probably get up and get moving?” He said, pulling away from Bucky and standing.  
  
Bucky gaped at him, and Steve smiled brightly. Teasingly. Because he was a tease.  
  
“That was incredibly mean,” Bucky said, grumbling as he stood.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said cheerily, packing up the basket.  
  
“Of course you don’t,” Bucky grumbled, but couldn’t help his smile when Steve bent to kiss his cheek.  
  
\--  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
This thing on?  
  
\--  
  
“It’s quite the novelty, drinking out of a cup,” Steve said, curling hand around his mug.  
  
“An actual cup. It doesn’t even have a lid,” Bucky agreed, nodding solemnly. Steve nudged him, beaming.  
  
“Think we should try and get real cups at the hospital?”  
  
“The amount of times I’ve watched you choke on coffee makes me think no. You’d spill the whole thing down your front.”  
  
Steve nudged him again, turning a mock-shocked look on Bucky. “You were flirting with me!”  
  
“Only as much as you did me!” Bucky protested.  
  
“And yet you still believed I only wanted to be friends.”  
  
“Are you going to hold that over me forever?” Bucky pouted at his coffee.  
  
Steve lifted his chin with one hand, and kissed it away. “I haven’t decided yet,” he said, grinning.  
  
Bucky’s jaw dropped open, and he turned a look on Steve that simply said ‘really?’, but before he could reply with something no doubt devastating (and would absolutely make Steve kiss him again), his phone started ringing.  
  
“God, she has the worst timing,” Bucky groaned, but smiled as he tugged his phone out of his pocket. Steve leaned back, somewhat regretfully, taking up his mug again. “It’s not Becca,” Bucky said, in a dread filled voice.  
  
“Who is it?” Steve asked, not liking that look on Bucky’s face, and the urge to take the phone and threaten who was on the other end was not a welcome one.  
  
However, Steve’s worry turned to amusement, when Bucky turned to face him with a helpless look, and answered the phone with “Hi, Auntie Ida.”  
  
“Why am I always the last to know things, James Barnes?” Came the woman’s voice, Steve laughing at it. Bucky mimed shushing him.  
  
“What do you mean?” He said, faking nonchalance, which made Steve laugh harder, though still silently.  
  
“Facebook. Facebook knows before me!? I am your beloved Aunt, young man.”  
  
“She sounds great,” Steve said, and earned a knock from Bucky’s shoulder.  
  
“I’m sorry, Ida, I forgot.”  
  
“Forgot to tell me?”  
  
“Forgot that Becca is a dirty snitch.”  
  
“She’s the favourite right now, since she told me about your boyfriend.”  
  
Steve was never going to ever get over anyone saying that. They could be dating for the rest of time (and they would, if Steve had any say), and he would still get a thrill hearing that he was Bucky’s boyfriend.  
  
“I was going to tell you, I promise. It just slipped my mind.”  
  
“I’ll forgive you, if you promise I get to meet him. Soon.”  
  
“We’re not coming out to Indiana, Auntie, he’s got a job to do.”  
  
“I wouldn’t mind ditching for a while,” Steve said, and Bucky shook his head, glaring at him.  
  
“We’re not going to Indiana, Steve,” Bucky said, and immediately winced.  
  
“He’s there!? Put him on! James, James, introduce me!”  
  
“Oh, god,” Bucky groaned, but dutifully handed the phone over, mouthing ‘sorry!’ at Steve. Steve kissed his temple, which earned him back Bucky’s smile, and held the phone up to his ear.  
  
“Hi, Ida. This is Steve.”  
  
“Steve! So nice to hear from you already! I’m sorry if I interrupted your date, but James should know far better than to keep me out of the loop.”  
  
“He should know better, it’s true,” Steve said, and Bucky kicked him playfully under the table.  
  
“Traitor,” he said, grinning.  
  
“Well, I’m glad you have a good head on your shoulders. Always get in good with the family,” Ida said, sounding very approving, which Steve took as a good sign.  
  
“I plan on sticking around for a while. It wouldn’t be good to anger the people he cares about most,” Steve said cheerfully. He looked over at Bucky to grin at him and maybe mouth something teasing at him, but there was a bright blush on his cheeks and Steve didn’t want to do anything else but reach out and cup a hand on one.  
  
Bucky leaned into it, pressing a kiss to his wrist.  
  
“Well, now I have to meet you. If it takes coming to New York, that is a sacrifice I can make. Would you put James back on? Not that it isn’t lovely to speak to you,” Ida said, imperiously. Steve liked her a lot already.  
  
“The feeling’s mutual, Ida. I look forward to meeting you.” He passed the phone back to Bucky, and slid his other hand onto his neck, thumb brushing along his jaw.  
  
“It’s me,” Bucky said, and Steve couldn’t help but beam at the weak tone.  
  
“All right, I’m coming up. Probably not until July, shall we say the last week?” Ida said, in that commanding tone.  
  
“I like how you decide that and not ask me,” Bucky grumbled, but didn’t sound too put out.  
  
“I’m your aunt. I have seniority.”  
  
“Then ma’am, yes ma’am.”  
  
“Good boy. I’ll let you get back to your date now. Call me more often!”  
  
“I will try! It’s all I can promise!”  
  
“Hmph. Becca calls me at least once a week.”  
  
“Becca is sucking up.”  
  
“Becca is respectful.”  
  
“I thought you were hanging up now.”  
  
“I love you too, James. Have a good day. Call me.”  
  
“Love you too. Bye.” Bucky hung up, and grimaced at Steve. “How much of that did you hear?”  
  
“All of it,” Steve replied, leaning on his other hand to smile (maybe a little smugly) at Bucky. Who groaned again. “Buck, it’s okay. I’ve already met Becca, and she likes me fine.”  
  
“Oh, I’m not worried about Ida liking you. You’re a perfect gentleman and she will be utterly taken. I’m worried about what she’s going to say about me. You already know too much,” Bucky said darkly.  
  
“Please tell me she has more goth phase photos. Please.”  
  
“No. I am taking away you goth phase privileges. Forever and ever.”  
  
“Bucky, that is the worst thing you have ever said to me,” Steve said, gasping in mock outrage. Bucky reached out to push at Steve, baring his teeth at him.  
  
“Um...hi?” A teenage girl was suddenly in front of their table, wringing her hands together, looking nervously at Steve. Steve schooled his face into something politely interested, a remembered habit from his 'dancing monkey' days.  
  
“Hello. Can I help you?” He asked, trying to sound professional. He felt Bucky slide along the booth, closer to him.  
  
“Um...god, I’m so sorry to do this, but, like...you are Captain America?” The poor thing sounded so ashamed. Steve took pity on her.  
  
“Sometimes,” he said, with a charming smile. Bucky fidgeted beside him.  
  
“Would you- uh, would you mind if I took a photo with you?” She smiled hopefully.  
  
Steve internally groaned, but kept his smile. “Sure. Let me just-” he squeezed Bucky’s neck apologetically, and started slipping out of the booth.  
  
“I can take it, if you like?” Bucky offered, and Steve turned to give him a grateful smile. Bucky did look a little uncomfortable, but not enough that other people would notice. Steve wondered if it was because it was another interruption, or because he didn’t like Steve being bothered. Either way, Steve would make it up to him.  
  
“Oh, would you? That would be awesome, thank you!” The girl gushed, and handed her phone over. Steve stood, and realised he was much, much taller than the girl, and so stooped enough that he was only a head shorter. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and let out a small ‘meep!’. Her arm went around his waist, and was barely a presence on his back.  
  
Bucky held the phone up, and Steve smiled. “Okay, one, two, three,” Bucky said, and then the camera clicked a few times. “Got a few, just in case.”  
  
“Thank you, thank you both so much!” The girl said, gushing. She took her phone back, and beamed at the photos.  
  
Steve took that as a dismissal, and slid back into the booth.  
  
“Um, I-” the girl said, looking at Steve with an amount of gratitude not really appropriate for a photo. Steve shifted uncomfortably. “I...in April. The aliens?”  
  
Steve nodded. “Yes?”  
  
“Um. You saved people? Trapped in a bank? My mum and sisters were there. You saved them. I- I just wanted to thank you. So...uh...thank you. So much.”  
  
Steve’s smile felt far more genuine. “Then I’m glad I was there to help. We try to save everyone we can.”  
  
The girl smiling, her lip wobbling a little bit. “Yeah. You’re all heroes. Um. Thank you again, for, uh, everything. And the photos. And thank you for taking them, uh-" She gestured at Bucky.  
  
“Bucky,” he said, smiling. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he did tuck himself back into Steve’s side.  
  
“Thank you, Bucky,” the girl grinned, and then waved, and bolted away, catching up with an older woman and two younger girls. Must be the mum and sisters.  
  
“That happen a lot?” Bucky asked, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.  
  
Steve threaded his hand into Bucky’s hair, running his thumb along his part. “Sometimes. Thank you for playing along.”  
  
“You said you didn’t want to hide. I’m with you on that,” Bucky said softly.  
  
Steve pressed a kiss to his hair, and then took out his own phone. “Come here,” he said, and Bucky lifted his head. Steve opened the camera on his phone, made sure it was facing them, and kissed Bucky.  
  
“You better send that to me,” Bucky murmured against his lips, and then leaned in again.  
  
\--  
  
**ellen MET STEVE ROGERS JUNE18TH @dorkknight**  
_steveandellen.jpg_  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!  
  
**georgia @babiestboyjason**  
_replying to @dorkknight_  
ELLEN OH MY GOD!!!!??!??!?!?!!?!?  
  
**ellen MET STEVE ROGERS JUNE18TH @dorkknight**  
_replying to @babiestboyjason_  
I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW HOLY SHIT RIGHT  
  
**georgia @babiestboyjason**  
_replying to @dorkknight_  
when!!!??! where!!?!?!?!?  
  
**ellen MET STEVE ROGERS JUNE18TH @dorkknight**  
_replying to @babiestboyjason_  
we were at that coffee shop, me mum and the twins, and he was sitting in a booth and i went over and asked and he was SO NICE  
  
**avengervenger @starkfanboy**  
_replying to @dorkknight_  
who was he with..........  
  
**ellen MET STEVE ROGERS JUNE18TH @dorkknight**  
_replying to @starkfanboy_  
i’m blind, suddenly, i cant read  
  
\--  
  
Bucky stretched his legs out over Becca’s, and felt Steve grab his ankle and tug. He slipped down the wall slightly. “Hey!”  
  
“No, get him, Steve. He’s heavy,” Becca said, half distracted by her book.  
  
“You could come and sit on me instead,” Steve said, and Bucky choked on a laugh, coughing. Steve seemed to realised what he said then, and buries his face in his hands, Bucky catching sight of a blush. “I did not mean it like that.”  
  
“You said it,” Bucky laughed.  
  
“Ugh. Can you go back to subtle flirting?” Becca said, disgustedly.  
  
“Absolutely no take-backs, now,” Bucky said smugly, poking her with his foot.  
  
“Ugh. Regret,” Becca said, grinning at him.  
  
“I, at least, am going to tone it down. If only to avoid a public indecency fine,” Steve said, lifting his head to wink at Bucky.  
  
“...tell me you haven’t already got one,” Becca said, eyes wide and fearful. And mostly not wanting to actually know, Bucky thought.  
  
“No. Near thing though. Steve practically had me purring in Central Park-”  
  
“OH MY GOD, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, I DIDN’T THINK I WOULD ACTUALLY HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT IT!”  
  
“Bucky,” Steve groaned, his head falling into his hands again. Bucky caught that pleased smile, though. Steve couldn’t take that back.  
  
\--  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
Well, bless my star-spangled heart! Old man @captainrogers has finally joined the masses!  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @stark_  
I already have to see you nearly every day, must we interact here as well?  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @captainroger_  
I’m so sorry that my friendship is such a hardship! I’m going to go cry into my Captain America sheets now.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @stark_  
Truly, my heart bleeds for you.  
  
**Iron Man flew past Em @heightsoflight**  
_replying to @stark, @captainrogers_  
i have never been so blessed in my entire life  
  
**avenge this @dddddddumb**  
_replying to @heightsoflight_  
i’m printing this out and getting it framed  
  
\--  
  
Steve sprawled the length of Bucky’s couch, his feet dangling off the end. He scrolled through twitter, frowning at most of it, and not sure what to make of the rest. People seemed a lot more confident and honest on the site, which was concerning in a lot of cases, but it was also heart-warming to see others be a more authentic version of themselves.  
  
A lot of people were writing about ‘Pride’. A lot of it involved that rainbow flag Steve had first seen hanging over Elise and Thistle’s bar. There were a lot of photos of people draped in the flag, wearing clothes patterned with it, hanging off floats covered in the colours.  
  
He was curious, and so started a search into it.  
  
He was so deep in reading the history, he didn’t notice Bucky coming into the living room, towelling off his hair, until Bucky had said his name enough times, in increasing volume, and then Steve blinked sort of blearily at him.  
  
“What’re you so intent on looking at?” Bucky asked, dropping to his knees next to Steve’s head to look at his phone. “Oh! Well, appropriate time to be looking that up.”  
  
“And this happens every year?” Steve asked. Bucky nodded. “And it’s allowed?” Bucky smiled, fond and lovely. He nodded. “And it’s...widely accepted?”  
  
“Well. We make sure it is,” Bucky said, the fierceness in his eyes beautiful.  
  
“I...I couldn’t even imagine. God, if they had this back then, me and Arnie would’ve been at the fucking front,” Steve laughed, a little delirious at the idea.  
  
“Who’s Arnie?” Bucky asked, and Steve’s high spirits abruptly vanished.  
  
He didn’t even know what happened to Arnie, after he went into the ice. He’d never even checked.  
  
“He...he was the only person that knew. Back then,” Steve said, quietly.  
  
Bucky slid a hand onto Steve’s cheek, and kissed just beneath Steve’s eye. “Then he was a good person,” he said, and Steve wrapped a hand around the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s smile was soft, and Steve loved it.  
  
Bucky kissed him once, then stood. “Right. I’m going to find out what I have in the fridge and attempt some form of dinner.”  
  
“Need any help?” Steve offered, going to sit up, but Bucky pushed him back down.  
  
“No. Stay right there. You’re going to be taken care of tonight, so that when you leave tomorrow, you’re going to be well rested,” Bucky said firmly, and then once Steve made a show of settling back into the couch, rounded it to head into the kitchen.  
  
Steve went back to twitter, and thought for maybe 30 seconds.  
  
Then he started typing.  
  
\--  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
So, I just found out about Pride. And I think it’s incredible.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
That people, no matter which letter in the acronym, can come together to celebrate love,  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
That’s the kind of thing I would’ve never taken for granted 70 years ago.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
A lot of people only know me as Captain America, the persona from the War, from the comics.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
And I know there has been speculation on here, surrounding someone I have been seen with.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
So, in the spirit of Pride, and to thank the brave people who made this possible, I’d like to introduce myself.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
My name is Steve, and I am bisexual.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
The man I have been seen with is my amazing boyfriend.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
And if anyone has a problem with that, I’d like to remind you that I have been battling bullies since the 20’s.  
  
**frieda @kahlol**  
_replying to @captainrogers_  
ur amazing! thank u for sharing ur truth!  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @kahlol_  
Frieda! Thank you for your kind words, I appreciate you defending me, really. And my boyfriend and I will definitely be back to see you.  
  
**frieda @ holy shit mom- @kahlol**  
_replying to @captainrogers_  
this cannot be real life. i have to go lie down immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> considering making frieda a main character, she's my favourite.
> 
> edit 15/6: the rating has been upped to mature, as in a later chapter /things/ happen.   
> :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was probably one of my favourite chapters to write! 
> 
> ~~enjoy~~
> 
> EDIT 19/08/19: Art once again by the incredible [Em!](https://twitter.com/emdibuja) She proves over and over why she's my favourite and honestly the art is just the start <3 <3

**Natasha R** : Wheels up in 2 hours, Steve. Get back to the Tower.  
**Me** : But what if I was currently unable to do that.  
**Natasha R** : How so?  
**Me** : Bucky and I fell asleep on the couch last night, and he’s kind of entirely on top of me.  
**Natasha R** : Repulsive. Show me.  
_You have sent a picture message._  
  
**Natasha R** : Oh my god, he looks so adorable.  
**Me** : I know. So, you understand my predicament.  
**Natasha R** : I do, definitely. But Fury will be entirely unmoved.  
**Me** : I don’t know how he is able to be immune to Bucky charm.  
**Natasha R** : Truly, a mystery.  
**Natasha R** : Two hours, Steve. :)  
  
\--  
  
“Buck. Buck, come on,” Steve’s voice said, sounding very far away and very close. Bucky rubbed his face across Steve’s chest. groaning. “I can see you moving, come on.”  
  
“No,” Bucky said, sleepily, tightening his hold on Steve’s back. He heard Steve’s chuckle, and felt the rumble of it through his chest.  
  
“I have to go. I’ll have the director breathing down my neck in a moment.”  
  
“I can take him.”  
  
“Please don’t,” Steve said on a laugh.  
  
Bucky lifted his head enough to rest his chin on Steve’s chest. “I can. And then I can come right back here, to this exact position.”  
  
Steve’s laugh was delighted, and it thrilled through Bucky, waking him up a little. At least clearing away some of the sleep-cobwebs. He slid down, under Bucky, so that his lips were level with Bucky’s forehead, and Bucky closed his eyes blissfully at the soft touch of them.  
  
“We can recreate it when I get back. Maybe on something a bit bigger than a couch,” Steve mused.  
  
Bucky dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder. “What if you just don’t go?” He mumbled, and maybe it was because he was just tired enough to be either honest or just worried.  
  
Steve stilled, his hands pausing on their stroking of Bucky’s spine. “Buck,” he said, and sounded sad.  
  
Yeah, Bucky had been found out.  
  
He carefully pushed himself upright, and Steve slipped out from under him, Bucky leaning against one end of the couch. Steve sat sideways to face him.  
  
“I know it’s your job, and it’s important. But-” He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. “This is a lot longer, and a lot further away than usual, and I’m worried.”  
  
“Bucky, I’m going to be fine. It’s the Avengers backing me up. You think anything’s gonna get past the Hulk to hit me?” Steve said, trying to be soothing. He reached out a hand to cup Bucky’s face, and just like in the cafe, Bucky leaned into it.  
  
“I’m going to be worried no matter what. Just...just be additionally more careful than you are. I know that’s a lot to ask,” he said, careful to make his last words into a tease, smirking a little.  
  
Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll do my best to not be myself,” he said, leaning in.  
  
Bucky met him halfway, and as usual, every touch of their lips was like coming home.  
  
Too soon, Steve was pulling away, sighing a breath. “I have to go.”  
  
“Okay,” Bucky said, not hiding his sadness.  
  
He also made sure to be as obstructive as possible while Steve gathered the few belongings he had left around the apartment, and tried to make his way to the door. Once he was there, Bucky pressed him against it, and stole a few more moments.  
  
“Can I do something for your birthday?” He asked, in between trying to steal the oxygen from Steve’s lungs. Maybe if he passed out, Bucky could hold him hostage long enough that the others would leave without him.  
  
“I don’t really need to do anything. It’s not like 27 is a special age,” Steve replied, happily and unknowingly going along with Bucky’s nefarious plan.  
  
“Sure. 27,” Bucky said, with a teasing smile.  
  
“I am!”  
  
“Sure you are.”  
  
“Now you’re not doing anything, because now I know you’ll put 93 candles on a cake, or something.”  
  
“I promise I won’t. But I want to do something,” Bucky said, pulling back far enough to look into Steve’s eyes, and think with an overwhelming need, _blueblueblueblueblue_.  
  
“Okay. I cannot possibly say no when you’re looking at me like that,” Steve said, linking his hands behind Bucky’s back, and touching his forehead to his.  
  
Bucky closed his eyes, and just breathed. And felt. Steve would be fine. He was coming back to him.  
  
“Come back to me,” he said, quietly.  
  
“Always,” Steve replied, pulling Bucky closer.  
  
In the end, Bucky let Steve go, and once the door closed between them, Bucky leaned back against it, pressing his head back.  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : becs sos i need help  
**Becca** : if this has anything 2 do with ur secks life i am OUTTIE  
**Me** : okay, 1 never, 2 god no  
**Becca** : just makin sure, dam no need to slam me  
**Me** : shh  
**Me** : i asked steve if i could do somethin for his birthday  
**Becca** : ah hah  
**Becca** : do u reckon the scientist knew that his birthday was july 4th when he made him cap america  
**Me** : pretty sure the guy makin him sell bonds called him that  
**Becca** : oh god thats even worse  
**Me** : yeah dont talk about it with steve. he calls it his ‘dancing monkey’ time  
**Becca** : yeesh  
**Becca** : so birthday. what were you thinking?  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : nat i need a favour  
**Nat** : Okay, but you have about 20 minutes before we’re going dark.  
**Me** : can you help me plan a surprise party for steve? at my place  
**Nat** : Absolutely. Hang on, I’m cluing Clint in  
**Unknown number** : oh hell ye i am so in steve deserves a fun time  
_Number saved: Clint_  
**Me** : thats exactly what i was thinking, clint  
**Clint** : great minds my friend  
**Nat** : So, what do you have so far?  
**Nat** : 15 minutes by the way.  
_You have sent a Note_  
**Me** : this is mine and becca’s plan so far  
**Nat** : Very doable. I’ll clue Bruce and Tony in too.  
**Nat** : And Pepper, definitely.  
**Me** : oh wow. pepper potts, in my apartment  
**Clint** : yeah be super amazed she has a presence  
**Nat** : 10 minutes. Message your boy, Bucky.  
**Me** : _salutes_  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : be safe. you stubborn ass.  
**Steve** : One week. Just the one.  
**Me** : if you have one bullet hole...  
**Steve** : Can we bargain for less then three?  
**Me** : Steve Fucking Rogers if u dont...  
**Steve** : _typing_...  
**Steve** : _typing_...  
**Steve** : I’ll see you in one week. Promise.  
**Me** : and not a day later.  
**Me** : steve?  
**Me** : okay, well, you’ll get this after, i guess. hope it went well.  
**Me** : i probably missed you the entire time.  
**Me** : maybe.  
**Me** : i cant actually predict the future  
**Me** : ...yet  
  
\--  
  
Talia frowned down at Becca’s chart. Bucky held his sister’s hand a little tighter.  
  
“Becca, I want to be supportive of this, I really do. I would love to say yes and let you go on your merry way, but with your vitals like this-” Talia started, but Becca cut her off before the actual ‘no’.  
  
“Talia, please. Please, this is my friend’s birthday. This is a normal event for a person my age to go to, it’s...it’s something normal!” Becca’s voice was pleading, and it hurt to hear it. Bucky rubbed his thumb down the back of Becca’s hand, like Steve would do for him.  
  
“I know, sweetheart. But every time we take you off the machines, you deteriorate. I don’t want it to happen so badly that we can’t balance you out again,” Talia said, and she sounded apologetic.  
  
“Is there anything you could give her to, I don’t know, boost her a little? At least for a couple of hours?” Bucky asked. He wanted this for Becca. He wanted her to have one night where she could be around people who weren’t nurses or doctors. And to be there, at Steve’s birthday, Bucky knew Steve would be thrilled.  
  
Talia pursed her lips, looking away for a moment. When she turned back, her brow was furrowed. “She could go on a milder form of the immuno-suppressor. Enough that she shouldn’t have a flair up. You’ll be very vulnerable, though, Becca. Not to mention in pain.”  
  
“That’s fine. It’s a trade-off,” Becca said, eagerly.  
  
Bucky was more cautious. “How easily could she get sick?”  
  
“In here, she’s in a sterile environment, and she’s still at risk every time you visit. I’m not trying to get you to stop. I’m trying to tell you that it isn’t a good idea,” Talia said, and Bucky was ready to agree with her, as soul-crushingly disappointing as it was, when she sighed. “But with a dose of something you definitely won’t be able to pronounce, we might be able to even it out. Very, very temporarily. And the pain will be there, Becca.”  
  
“I can handle it!” She declared.  
  
“I’m talking a few hours. At most,” Talia said sternly.  
  
Becca nodded. “That’s fine. More than enough.” She turned a megawatt grin on Bucky. “I’m meeting the Avengers!”  
  
Bucky smiled broadly at her, and kissed her temple. “Yes, and then we whisk you into your pumpkin carriage, Cinderella.”  
  
Becca batted him off, grinning.  
  
Talia sighed again. “This is a one-time thing. I’m not putting you at risk again.”  
  
“I see that, but I raise you doing it again for the wedding,” Becca said seriously.  
  
Bucky frowned. “What wedding?” He questioned. Who did they both know that was getting married?  
  
Becca grinned mischievously at him. “Yours, dumbass.”  
  
Bucky swatted her head.  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : okay becs i got your dress  
**Becca** : S H O W M E  
_You have sent a picture message_  
**Me** : u like?  
**Becca** : oh my god. bucks its so pretty!  
**Becca** : i havent worn something that nice like ever  
**Me** : and youll match the theme  
**Becca** : yeah i had a question about that  
**Becca** : why are we all wearing red?  
**Me** : its just something steve told me. thought itd be cute  
**Becca** : gross. aw, but gross  
  
\--  
  
The delivery finally came two days before Steve was due back, and Bucky could hardly believe he’d managed to bargain with the collector for it. He had a feeling he’d had help, somehow, but had no proof. And really, the only people who knew about it were currently either on mission, or Becca, and she definitely didn’t know how to drop someone’s price on a ‘valuable piece of American history’.  
  
He opened the package carefully, not wanting to damage the prize within.  
  
When he saw it, intact, he smiled. Yeah. This was perfect.  
  
\--  
  
**Becca** : i tried on the dress and uh  
**Becca** : im gonna need a belt. or to suddenly gain weight  
**Me** : what colour belt?  
**Becca** : blue maybe? if you can find one  
**Me** : aw. u wearing that for steve or america?  
**Becca** : Both?  
**Me** : Both.  
**Becca** : Both is good.  
**Me** : Both is good.  
**Becca** : FUCKING JINX!!!!!!!!!  
  
\--  
  
One day before Steve was due back, Bucky got a phone call from an unknown number. He was going through recipes, frowning at every single one, feeling a little lost. So much of it seemed a lot harder than he could reasonably do. Maybe he should go simple?  
  
The phone call was a welcome distraction, and he pushed the book aside to pick up his phone. Unknown number? Bucky’s heart thudded. His brain conjured up two different scenarios, the first one being Steve calling him from a different number, therefore getting around radio silence.  
  
The second was that someone was calling him to tell him something had happened.  
  
He answered the call, anxiety churning in his gut. “Hello?”  
  
“Mr Barnes? This is Pepper Potts.”  
  
Holy shit.  
  
“Uh, hi. Wow,” Bucky said, suddenly very glad he was sitting down.  
  
“Natasha sent me a message at the start of the week, letting me know about this party? I haven’t been able to spare it a thought until now, I’m very sorry about that. I did manage to bargain for the book you were trying to buy? Has that arrived?”  
  
“I knew there was someone helping me! I thought I’d been a little too successful,” Bucky said, excitedly. He then sobered himself. This was the CEO of Stark Industries, for crying out loud. Calm down! “Thank you for that. It arrived, and was in really good condition, considering its age.”  
  
“That is a relief, and I hope Steve likes it. Now, the matter I was calling about. Is there anything I can do to make things smoother? I do have Tony’s money to throw around, and as much as they bicker, I know he cares about Captain Rogers, really.”  
  
Bucky looked at the recipe books, and quelled the guilt of asking for help. It was for Steve, after all.  
  
“I don’t suppose you know any caterers that could do a small event?” He asked weakly.  
  
He could practically hear Pepper’s smile. “Of course. I’ll have it organised for the fourth. Was it a 7pm start?”  
  
“That’s the plan. Get everyone here before that, and then Steve will come then.”  
  
“Excellent. Please, Mr Barnes, call me if you need anything else. You have my number now,” Pepper said, warmly.  
  
“Just Bucky is fine, Miss Potts,” Bucky replied, grinning to himself.  
  
“Then please call me Pepper. I feel like we should probably stick together,” she said, laughing a little.  
  
“Girlfriends and boyfriends club?”  
  
“We’ll get jackets.”  
  
Bucky laughed. He was joking with Pepper Potts. How was is life real?  
  
“Thanks again, Pepper.”  
  
“Any time, Bucky. See you in a couple of days.”  
  
\--  
  
**Steve** : I’m back. Was your prediction true?  
**Me** : i missed you so much  
**Steve** : Me too, sweetheart.  
**Me** : ...  
**Me** : okay im dead now  
  
\--  
  
Steve frowned. “Are you sure I can’t come over any earlier?” He asked, wishing that Bucky could see the pleading face he was no doubt doing. He got back late last night, and needed to sleep more than anything else, but he had assumed that he would be able to go straight over and see Bucky.  
  
It almost hurt a little that he couldn’t go straight over. Which, yeah, was maybe a little possessive. Or a lot clingy.  
  
“I really can’t until 7, I’m really sorry. I’m swamped,” Bucky said, and he sounded as sad as Steve felt.  
  
“I cannot believe you have a life outside of me,” Steve teased, pushing aside his disappointment (and maybe clinginess), and focused instead on Bucky apparently having a secret interest. Or job?  
  
“Yeah, well. I couldn’t sit around moping the entire time. I will tell you all about it when you get here, though.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
“Promise. You’ll love it.”  
  
Steve smiled. “Is Becca involved?”  
  
“She might be. She may have also been instrumental in planning it, but don’t tell her that. She’ll get an ego, and then there’ll be no living with her.”  
  
Steve laughed, and then heard something bang from Bucky’s end. “Buck? Everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah, I just-uh...I have to go deal with this,” Bucky said, and he was apologising.  
  
“Can you stay on the phone?” Yeah, Steve. Be more obvious about your apparent need to hang onto Bucky like- well. An overly affectionate boyfriend.  
  
Bucky made a sound of frustration. “God, I want to. I really do, but I need my hand free. I’m sorry, Steve.”  
  
Steve sighed. “It’s okay. I’m seeing you later. I’ll hang onto that for now.”  
  
“It’s only a little bit longer,” Bucky said, regretful.  
  
Steve hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty. “Buck, it’s fine. I’m just disappointed I don’t get to try and convince you by pinning you to a door.”  
  
Bucky laughed, and sounded a little strangled. “Next time,” he said, quietly.  
  
“Promise?” Steve said, dropping his voice low as well.  
  
“God,” Bucky breathed. A moment of silence passed, and Steve grinned. “Okay, I really have to go. Soon. A few hours. We can do it.”  
  
“See you soon, Buck.”  
  
“Happy birthday, baby,” Bucky said, and then hung up. Steve stood there, with his phone to his ear still, dumbstruck.  
  
Then a big, stupid grin stretched across his face.  
  
He was so goddamn weak for Bucky Barnes.  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : you guys find parking okay?  
**Elise** : Yes! We’re on our way up. Everything else good?  
**Me** : yeah, peppers got a handle on everything else  
**Elise** : God, if I was single-  
**Elise** : Thistle would like to echo that statement  
**Me** : god, i know. if i was straight-  
  
\--  
  
Steve rode over to Bucky’s, a little confused. The Tower had seemed too quiet and too empty, like the others weren’t rattling around inside as usual. He’d almost gotten used to Clint just appearing randomly as he was leaving, Nat slipping into the seat beside him to needle him about some small thing he’d said or done. Even Tony, usually elbow deep in something in his lab, was still a large enough presence to be felt usually.  
  
And really, where would any of them go, but the Tower?  
  
He managed to leave that worry behind as he found parking as close to Bucky’s as possible, and swung himself off, collecting an overnight bag he’d packed, maybe a little too hopeful. Not that he was expecting anything to...happen, but should he and Bucky fall asleep on top of each other again, he’d rather not be wearing jeans.  
  
He headed into Bucky’s building, smile growing and heart beating faster the closer he got to the apartment. He was going to see his boyfriend. He was going to look into those stormy eyes, and kiss his mouth and wrap his arms around as much of him as possible.  
  
And he was not going to be as clingy as he was over the phone. He was going to want to be around Bucky a normal and reasonable amount.  
  
Or so he told himself.  
  
Steve composed himself, and once the elevator was on the right floor, he walked to Bucky’s door, and once he was there, he knocked. Perfectly normal. He didn’t at all want to run at it.  
  
The strange thing was, he could hear what sounded like several people walking around inside. He had to be hearing things. Or perhaps not interpreting the sound right.  
  
And it didn’t matter in the next moment, when he heard the latch unlock.  
  
Then the door opened, and Bucky was there, in the red shirt he wore on their first date.  
  
“Hey,” he said, warmly and happily, and Steve stepped straight into him, wrapping himself around him, pressing his face into his neck. Bucky held him back just as tight, and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday.”  
  
Steve chuckled, feeling so buoyant he could float. “Thank you, Buck,” he said, lifting his head to press their foreheads together. “Nice shirt.”  
  
“It’s a classic,” Bucky laughed.  
  
God, he was beautiful.  
  
“You look good for 93.”  
  
And he was an asshole.  
  
“Damn right I do,” Steve said, and stopped any more smart replies by doing exactly what he had wanted to do the entire week, and kissed Bucky.  
  
“Mmph,” Bucky said, and responded in earnest, and when Steve gasped into his mouth-  
  
Oh. Steve remembered this. He remembered this very well, the taste of someone’s else mouth, the glide of tongues and how it does strange and wonderful things to your head-  
  
“Okay, it sounds like you’re having fun, but you’re both being incredibly rude. Really, Cap, we came all this way,” Tony’s voice said.  
  
Tony said?  
  
Steve startled away from Bucky (immediate regret), and looked behind him into the apartment beyond. He looked down at Bucky, whose lips were red and kiss-swollen, and smiling. “Why don’t we go in and find out?” He said, answering Steve’s unasked question. He took his hand, and pulled him down the hall, Steve shutting the door behind them out of habit, and following Bucky in a confused somewhat-daze.  
  
In the living room, were the Avengers, Elise and Thistle, and Pepper Potts. All dressed in red, and beaming at him. There were a chorus of happy birthday’s, and Steve gaped at them all.  
  
“I think it’s safe to assume he’s surprised,” Pepper said, smiling warmly at Steve.  
  
“Very safe. Look at the shock,” Banner said, grinning. It was hard to see him as the Hulk he’d battled beside, in this moment.  
  
“What are you all doing here?” Steve asked, and maybe he was one of the best strategists when it came to the battlefield, but he had trouble putting people together.  
  
“It’s a birthday party. Just a small one. I thought you deserved a good one,” Bucky said, squeezing his hand. Steve softened entirely, staring at him fondly.  
  
“Buck, you didn’t have to do this all for me,” he said, pressing their foreheads together again.  
  
“He had help!” Came a voice from the couch, and it was one that had Steve starting away from Bucky, who was laughing. Nat, perched on the arm of the couch, shifted away slightly, and there was Becca.  
  
Becca, out of hospital, no needles in her arm. Her hair was in a neat braid, and she was in a long red dress, a blue belt around her middle. She looked like any other 20-something Brooklyn native.  
  
“Oh my god. Becca,” Steve said, breathlessly.  
  
She waved. “Happy birthday!”  
  
Steve grin was too big to contain. It was a wonder he hadn’t floated right through the ceiling.  
  
“You’re all here. In red,” he said in wonder, and turned back to look at Bucky. “This is what you had to distract you the whole week?”  
  
Bucky brought his hand up to his lips, and kiss his knuckles. “You save the world, I give you a night off. Sounds like a deal?” His eyes were bright and his smile was beautiful.  
  
"Deal," Steve said. And sealed it with a kiss.  
  
\--  
  
Bucky watched with absolute joy as Steve and Becca talked with wildly gesticulating hands about something, Nat on the other side, joining in when Steve left something out. Clint perched on the coffee table, deep in conversation with Thistle, both of them signing so fast that Bucky was struggling to keep up. Elise and Pepper were still sat at the dining table, commiserating about running their own businesses.  
  
“I’ve never seen him this happy. He usually seems so single-minded, you know. Eyes on the mission and nothing else,” Bruce said, and Bucky smiled at Steve again.  
  
“Yeah, it’s honestly kind of weird. You get used to that firm and stern Captain look,” Tony said, leaning against the bookshelf.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve seen that look since the alien attack,” Bucky said, somewhat smugly (though he did note the way Tony tensed when he said that). “This is usually how he looks around me.”  
  
“God, that’s sappy. I despise that,” Tony said, with a pleased grin.  
  
“It’s sweet. I’m glad you two found each other,” Bruce said, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder once.  
  
“Yeah, thank Christ for the Chitauri,” Bucky drawled, and Bruce laughed.  
  
“Can we do gifts now?” Elise called from the dining table, Pepper nodding her head approvingly.  
  
“Guys, you didn’t have to-” Steve started, and got a whack from Becca. He turned big betrayed eyes on her.  
  
“Ha! Yeah, Steve, that’s how it feels,” Bucky said, and got the same eyes turned on him.  
  
“Yes, we did have to. It’s your birthday,” Becca exclaimed.  
  
Steve ducked his head. “Guys-”  
  
“Shut up, Rogers,” Nat said, reaching over Becca to tousle Steve’s hair.  
  
“Yeah, Steeb. You’re getting free things for being born, learn to take the blessings when you get them,” Tony said, sauntering over to Pepper, who already had a wide, wrapped package in her hands.  
  
“Steeb?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Steve.  
  
Steve pointed at Clint. Clint saw, and turned a sheepish look on Bucky. “I type very fast,” he explained. Bucky snorted.  
  
“I noticed.”  
  
Tony settled on the coffee table next to Clint, Elise perched on the arm of the couch next to Thistle, and Bucky did the same on the arm closest to Steve. Steve immediately lay his arm over Bucky’s lap, his hand resting next to Bucky’s thigh.  
  
“All right. Ours first,” Elise declared, and handed over a bottle bag.  
  
“Beautifully wrapped, De le,” Bucky chuckled.  
  
_Only the best for Steve_ , Thistle signed, with a huge shit-eating grin.  
  
“Thanks, guys,” Steve said, and he looked so touched that Bucky’s heart almost broke. It was quickly mended, however, when Steve realised he needed both hands for presents, and grumbled as he let go of Bucky’s leg.  
  
He opened the bag, and pulled out a long bottle, with a label on it, emblazoned with the Howling Commandos emblem. ‘1918’ was proudly printed across it.  
  
“Your very own vintage,” Elise explained, and Steve smiled so genuinely up at her.  
  
“Elise, thank you. And Thistle,” Steve said, and signed that to Thistle. She grinned, and gave him a thumbs up.  
  
He opened art supplies from Tony and Pepper, and exclaimed in shock, “How did you know?”  
  
“You doodle on every spare piece of paper you can get, Cap. Thought you might like something a bit more...professional,” Tony said, waving an airy hand.  
  
Nat handed over an envelope. Inside was a voucher for a weekend away in upstate New York. “You can redeem it whenever. If you guys ever wanted to get away for a bit,” she said, winking slyly at Steve and Bucky. “From me and Clint.”  
  
“Thank you. That sounds really nice.” Steve smiled up at Bucky. Bucky twisted a little so he could cup his face and kiss him.  
  
“Uh, it was our gift. Where’s our kiss?” Clint said, putting on a petulant whine.  
  
Bucky raised his middle finger to him, to the delight of the rest of the room.  
  
Banner added additional art supplies, in the form of a selection of pencils and fine-liners. “Was told these were used by professional artists. I am a little surprised that Tony and I managed to buy along a similar theme,” he chuckled.  
  
“Great minds think alike, Banner. And we are, in fact, the greatest,” Tony declared.  
  
Lastly, Becca handed over the package she had been guarding under her feet. “Here. From Bucky and me. I found it, Bucky handled the acquiring.”  
  
“Also it was my idea,” Bucky pointed out.  
  
Becca waved a hand at him. “Details.”  
  
Steve inspected the box with some curiousity, and a lot of trepidation. “Well. Intriguing.”  
  
Bucky nudged him gently, trying to hide the fact he was about to vibrate right off the couch with nervous energy. “Go on.”  
  
Steve looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to puzzle Bucky out, but turned his attention to the box. He lifted the lid.  
  
And immediately his face fell into complete and utter shock. Bucky bit his lip, worrying along it. Steve just stared into the box, complete disbelief on his face.  
  
Eventually, Bucky could not take the silence. “Steve? Baby, you okay?”  
  
Steve didn’t respond, but did finally reach into the box with shaking hands, to pull out one of his old sketchbooks. In the corner of the cover, carved into it with a knife, was SGR, ‘37.  
  
“This...Bucky,” Steve said, barely above a breath. His hands trembled across the cover.  
  
“Oh my god, Steve, are you crying?” Becca said, panicked. Bucky slid off the couch to kneel by Steve’s feet, and fucking hell, those were tears.  
  
“Steve, I’m sorry, I thought it would be good-” He started, trying to stroke his leg soothingly, but was cut off when Steve laughed. And the sound was so, so bright.  
  
“Bucky, Becca, I- I can’t...I don’t have the words,” Steve said, wrapping Becca in a hug, careful even now of her tiny frame.  
  
Becca met Bucky’s eyes, and did an exaggerated ‘phew!’, wiping a hand across her forehead.  
  
Steve then let her go, to grab Bucky’s face with both hands, pull him up, and give Bucky what was possibly the best kiss of his entire life, which left him completely dizzy when they finally parted.  
  
“Thank you,” Steve said again, and Bucky kissed his cheek, wiping away tears with his thumb.  
  
“Of course. I’m just glad we could return something to you.”  
  
“Show us something?” Becca asked hopefully.  
  
“Yes, anything other than crying and kissing, both of those I could happily not see again,” Tony said, and then grunted when Pepper elbowed him.  
  
Steve took it in stride, giving Tony a disapproving look, though it was a little ruined with his beaming smile. He carefully opened the sketchbook, his smile widening as he turned every page, running his fingers over old drawings.  
  
“Here,” he said, turning the book around to show everyone. On it was a beautifully simple sketch, of a woman, hair done up in a bun, eyes and mouth smiling, hand waving. “Sarah Rogers. My mother.”  
  
Bucky stared at the drawing, not sure why his heart was thudding in his chest, and why he was torn between wanting to grin so wide it hurt, and cry like a child.  
  
Everyone else in the room seemed to just appreciate the drawing for what it was, beautiful and lifelike.  
  
Maybe that was the difference. They were seeing a piece of art, and Bucky was seeing a still-life of what Steve had left behind.  
  
“I get what you were saying at the gallery now,” he said to Steve, once the sketchbook had closed and was back in the box, the others going back to mingling.  
  
Steve pulled Bucky up to sit next to him, and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, holding him tightly.  
  
“Beautiful and terrible?” He murmured into Bucky’s hair.  
  
“I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to lose so much,” Bucky said, tucking his head under Steve’s chin.  
  
“I’ve gained something too, Buck,” Steve said, too honest, and too heartfelt.  
  
Bucky’s hand tightened against Steve’s back, fingers catching in the fabric of his shirt.  
  
“Thank you,” Steve said, a while later, he and Bucky having sat there in comfortable silence.  
  
“You’ve already thanked me. You don’t have to keep doing it.” Bucky smiled against Steve’s throat.  
  
“I don’t think there are words enough for how grateful I am to you,” Steve replied.  
  
“Words are overrated,” Bucky said, tilting his head up to press his lips to Steve’s jaw.  
  
Steve seemed to agree with the statement, and took Bucky’s lips again.  
  
\--  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_sketchbook.jpg_  
A piece of my past returned. Thank you, sweetheart, for an amazing birthday.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
And a very happy birthday to America too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and then everything was fine.
> 
> *eyes emoji*


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...so I am sorry for freaking you guys out, but the *eyes emoji* is not this chapter. sorry again! this is just some lovely fluff with bucky's aunt!
> 
> enjoy! <3

**Becca** : what time is auntie ida getting in?  
**Me** : 6pm. shes gonna call when she gets in, then we’ll pik her up  
**Becca** : u guys coming over after that?  
**Me** : nah we’ll come by 2morro  
**Becca** : small mercies  
**Becca** : steve freaking out?  
**Me** : he’s not. he’s cooking.   
**Becca** : ...hav u proposed?  
**Me** : definitely thinking about it now  
  
\--  
  
Bucky wandered into the kitchen, still texting Becca, when Steve touched his shoulder gently. “Try this?” He asked, raising a spoon.   
  
Bucky leaned over obediently, and tasted the gravy. And immediately screwed up his face. “Babe, that’s really salty.”  
  
Steve frowned. “I followed the recipe exactly,” he said, sounding mildly irritated. He double checked the said recipe on his tablet, scrolling up to the ingredients. Bucky leaned against his side to check too.   
  
“Oh, god, I think I put three tablespoons instead of teaspoons,” Steve groaned. Bucky laughed, rubbing his back comfortingly.   
  
“Easy mistake to make,” he said, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.   
  
“Annoying, though,” Steve grumbled. “Do you think it’s salvageable?”   
  
“Google it. See what gravy needs to balance out salt.”   
  
Steve did so, and got back right into cooking, Bucky staying out of his way, sitting on the only clear bench space. He kept pulling his phone to check the time, check for messages, check that he wasn’t about to actually freak out from nerves-  
  
-and then suddenly Steve swooped in and pressed their lips together so fiercely, Bucky had to brace himself against the tiled wall. Steve kissed him hungrily, like he was intent on having Bucky’s breath for oxygen, and Bucky was helpless against it. Since his birthday, Steve had gotten so much confidence in kissing Bucky, that now when he started kissing him, Bucky was barely able to keep up. Not that he minded, having his super-soldier boyfriend leading the charge was perfectly fine in his book. In fact-  
  
Steve stopped kissing him.   
  
“Excuse me,” Bucky said, a little drunk-sounding.   
  
“What’s got you so worried?” Steve asked, his hands either side of Bucky’s thighs. That wasn’t at all distracting.  
  
“My boyfriend just stopped kissing me, that’s what,” Bucky said, sitting back up, so that their faces were closer together.   
  
Steve smirked, and kissed the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “If you’re worried about Ida-”   
  
Bucky sighed, dropping his head onto Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not worried about her, because I think she’ll do something.”   
  
“It’s been a while since she met a boyfriend?”   
  
“Yeah. And it’s an abstract fear. Irrational. Because you’re perfect and she’s going to love you.”  
  
“But there’s always the what-if?”  
  
“Exactly,” Bucky said, lifting his head. Steve pressed their foreheads together.   
  
“Let me put it this way. Even if she were to react poorly, which I’m sure she won’t, it wouldn’t change anything for me. I’d still very much want to be with you,” Steve said, and Bucky had to close his eyes so he couldn’t see the sincerity in his. “But I seriously doubt she’s going to say anything against us being together, Buck.”  
  
“I know, she was practically screaming how excited she was to meet you on the phone yesterday,” Bucky said, opening his eyes so he could roll them.   
  
Steve smiled, and pressed a kiss onto his temple. Bucky’s lips curled at the thought that maybe every inch of his face had been touched by Steve’s lips. “Then sit right there, and taste my terrible attempts at cooking until I get it right?”   
  
“A hardship, really,” Bucky said, and Steve kissed him properly, though closed-lipped, to Bucky’s dismay.   
  
“I know. The things you have to do for me,” Steve said, looking at Bucky with big, fake-sympathetic eyes. Bucky kicked out at him.   
  
Despite the pots on the stove, and once the timers were set up on the oven, there wasn’t actually much left for Steve to do, once he corrected the gravy mishap. In fact, twenty minutes before Ida was due to arrive, he stepped back between Bucky’s legs, wrapped his arms around Bucky’s middle, and they lazily made out.   
  
Bucky threaded his hand through Steve’s hair, his absolute favourite, and got as close to Steve as he could get without falling off the bench. Though Steve would catch him, no doubt, and there was merit in the idea of being held up by Steve, mid kiss.   
  
“Before I- I commit- to staying here for the next- possible forever, is there- anything we need to do?” Steve asked, breathlessly, kissing Bucky between words. Bucky could practically taste the words before Steve said them.   
  
“No, and if you stop, that is incredibly rude,” Bucky said, gently biting Steve’s lower lip. Steve retaliated by dragging his lips down Bucky’s neck, sucking a mark just below his collar. Bucky was then left to bite his own lip, tightening his hold on Steve’s hair. “We really don’t have- uh!- anything to do. Spare room’s good to go, and-” Bucky had to cut himself off, before he let an actual moan out.   
  
He could feel Steve grinning against his collarbone. Bucky let his hair go so he could drag Steve’s face back up to his to stop him from being so terribly distracting by his neck.   
  
Bucky lost a few more minutes breathing in by having his tongue in Steve’s mouth and dragging air into himself, which may sound weird, he thought to himself, but was actually the best thing ever. If he was being honest, Steve-anything was pretty much the best thing.   
  
Except for when Steve turned his head to the side, face pressed against Bucky’s and took in a shaking breath, and then stepped away from Bucky.   
  
“Noooooo,” Bucky whined, reaching back up to Steve’s neck to pull him back. Steve laughed, and pressed a kiss into his palm.   
  
“I really did mean it when I said I wanted to take things slow,” Steve said, sounded conflicted and apologetic.   
  
“That’s fine! 100% fine, I have no issue with that. We’ll take the other stuff at your pace, but right now, please continue kissing me. Please,” Bucky said, trying to sound reassuring while also not hiding his undeniable thirst.   
  
Steve took his hand in his, and pressed kisses along his wrist and forearm. “You will need to give me a minute,” he murmured against Bucky’s skin. Bucky could not and would not be blamed for the full body shiver that elicited, and made him internally agree with the minute-long break.   
  
They didn’t get a chance to continue, as Bucky’s phone started ringing then. He grabbed it, and saw it was Ida. “Battle stations,” he said, with a quirk of his lips. He kissed Steve once, quickly, and then answered the phone.   
  
“Hey auntie!”   
  
“I’m here! I’m outside your door!” Ida’s voice was cheery, and Bucky was confused. He checked the time- 6pm on the dot.  
  
“I thought you were going to call when you needed to be picked up!” Bucky grouched, and slid off the counter.   
  
“I got a taxi. I didn’t want to put Steve out!” She said, but didn’t sound that genuine with that. Which meant she had assumed he and Steve were together and didn’t want to disturb them. Which was sweet, but also concerning.   
  
“He wouldn’t have minded, Ida,” Bucky chided, heading out into the living room to pad down the hallway.   
  
“Oh, I can hear you coming! I’m hanging up.” And she did that. Bucky laughed, stowed his phone in his pocket, and opened his front door.   
  
Ida, looking like an older, blonde, well-fed Becca, charged into the apartment and threw her arms around Bucky. “James, my darling!” She exclaimed. Bucky laughed helplessly, and hugged her back.   
  
“Hey, auntie. Good flight?”  
  
Ida pulled back with a disgusted noise. “Awful. Terrible. I’m splashing out for first class, next time. The leg room is just nonexistent!” She swung her bag over her arm, and kicked the front door closed behind her. “Right. Show me to the boy.”  
  
Bucky’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Yes, ma’am. Come with me,” Bucky said, leading her through the apartment she already knew like the back of her hand. “Steve? She’s here!”  
  
Steve emerged from the kitchen, smiling politely and warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ida-”  
  
“Holy shit,” Ida said on an exhale, throwing her bag to one side, and walking straight up to Steve, to stare at him with huge, amazed eyes. “Just- look at you, my god!”  
  
“Steve, auntie Ida. Ida, Steve,” Bucky said, voice barely steady as he tried not to laugh.   
  
Steve seemed to be having the same problem, as he looked over Ida’s shoulder to smiled amusedly at Bucky.  
  
“Steve. God, James, what an absolute catch you’ve made! Though Steve is a rather old fashioned name-” Bucky snorted, holding a hand over his mouth. “-but never mind that. My god, how tall are you?”   
  
“Five- wait, no, six-two?” Steve said, beginning to look a little concerned.   
  
“Holy shit. My god,” Ida said, holding up her hands like she was trying to catch Steve between them, like she would a fly.   
  
“I know, right? I have the same reaction,” Bucky said, smiling smugly at Steve when he gave him a beaming, yet withering, look.   
  
“Wait- wait a moment, do I know you? You look familiar,” Ida said, leaning in as close as she could get to Steve’s face.   
  
Bucky could not hold his laugh in then, and leaned against the couch in support.   
  
“You...might know of me?” Steve said, looking to Bucky for support.   
  
“No, don’t tell her, it’ll be way funnier when she figures it out,” Bucky gasped out.   
  
“Thanks, Buck. Real helpful,” Steve drawled.   
  
“Yes, James. Thank you,” Ida joined in with Steve’s dry tone, but turned back to him quickly, and patted his cheek. “Never you mind, I will figure it out. Now! What smells so good in here?” Ida marched behind Steve into the kitchen.   
  
“Oh, I thought I’d do Sunday roast. Ma used to do it when she could, Catholic upbringing.”   
  
“Steve! That’s a lovely idea! Very traditional of you, I like that.”   
  
Bucky grinned, and picked up Ida’s bag to drop it into the spare room.   
  
Really, what had he been worried about?  
  
\--  
  
_**Avengers**_ :  
**Natasha R** : She really doesn’t know who you are?  
**Me** : She keeps peering at me, trying to guess people she used to know when she lived here.   
**Clint B** : i mean u did used to live there technically  
**Tony S** : Please tell me how you’ve managed to fool someone. A man sometimes needs anonymity.  
**Bruce B** : You would last ten minutes.  
**Me** : I’d put money on five.  
**Tony S** : I excel at everything I put my mind to, including being a normie.  
**Me** : You also demand the spotlight at every opportunity.   
**Tony S** : Well, are you going to go out in it, in your Star-Spangled Pants?  
**Clint B** : pls say yes  
  
\--  
  
“Really, Ida, it’s fine,” Steve assured her, for the eighth time, as they stood on the sidewalk, about to go separate ways for the day.   
  
Ida was squeezing his hand hard enough that if he wasn’t serumed-up, it probably would’ve hurt. “I feel terrible! We all saw the reports back in April, and Becca had said Captain America saved these two fools, not to mention your face in all my old history textbooks-”  
  
“Ida, it’s okay! I don’t mind not getting recognised,” Steve tried again.   
  
“Auntie, he likes being anonymous. He probably would’ve liked it if you’d never figured it out,” Bucky said, rubbing his aunt’s back.   
  
“Bucky is absolutely right, which is why I’m not happy about Tony dragging me into this press conference,” Steve said, frowning in the direction of Manhattan, mostly theatrics for Ida’s benefit.   
  
Seemed to work, as Ida’s grip relaxed, and she patted his face again. “The price of being a celebrity, unfortunately. Especially in this day and age,” Ida said sympathetically.   
  
“You sure you don’t want me to come with? Ida knows the way to the hospital pretty well,” Bucky offered, again.   
  
“It’s true, I did live here for a long time,” Ida agreed.   
  
Steve shook his head. “I’m going to sit up the back and follow the script. Pepper’s orders. She’s done these many times with Tony, and knowing me, I’ll say something and start a scandal. And that’s the last thing the Avengers or SHIELD needs.”   
  
“I asked if you wanted me to come with you, not what Pepper thinks you should do,” Bucky said, pressing a little.   
  
How the hell did he manage to get him? How did Steve convince Bucky to be with him, and care about him that much?  
  
“I’ll be fine, Buck, and I’ll see you both tonight,” he said, stepping to the side of Ida, so he could kiss Bucky’s cheek. He felt Bucky smile.   
  
“Don’t mind me, I’ll just wander off this way,” Ida said, doing just that.   
  
“In that case,” Bucky said, and then his hand was curling around Steve’s neck, and then he was pressing his lips to Steve’s. Not for the first time, Steve questioned why exactly he had chosen to take things slow. If this is how his body reacted to a simple kiss goodbye, with every nerve lighting on fire and everything sharpening into focus, how would he react when he had the rest of him?   
  
Steve returned Bucky’s kiss, once, twice, and then pulled away. “See you tonight,” he whispered.   
  
“Be good,” Bucky teased, kissing Steve’s jaw.   
  
There were many things Steve could say in reply to that, but instead he just grinned, and pushed Bucky towards his aunt. Bucky’s hand slipped off Steve’s neck after a soft squeeze, and then he was off up the street to catch up to Ida.   
  
Steve watched them go with a soft smile, and then headed to his bike.  
  
\--  
  
“...and so we are committed to the plan set out by SHIELD, the Avengers will provide security from the threats that normal means can’t fight.”  
  
“He means we can punch harder, so we will.”  
  
“Thank you, Stark. I believe I can speak for myself.”  
  
“He loves me, really, don’t let his brusque tone fool you. Next, ahhh, you?”   
  
“Thank you, Mr Stark. Fred Gurden, FeudNews. Mr Rogers-”  
  
“Captain. Captain Rogers. Show a 93 year old war vet some respect, hm?”  
  
“Yes, of course. Captain Rogers. What do you say to the claims your interactions with fans on twitter have been inappropriate and irresponsible?”   
  
“This conference is not about Captain Rogers’ social media-”  
  
“What do you mean by ‘inappropriate and irresponsible’?”   
  
“Steve-”  
  
“No, Tony, I want to hear this. Care to explain?”  
  
“Your tweets from the last week of June-”  
  
“You mean where I came out.”   
  
“Yes. Some people have called it-”  
  
“Irresponsible and inappropriate, I heard you. What I want from you is to explain how either of those things are true.”   
  
“Well, there are children on the site-”  
  
“And of course, Steve being in a healthy, monogamous relationship and being true and open with himself is a major problem for children. Who knows what kinds of terrible ideas they might get?”  
  
“Sexuality is not pornography, Mr Gurden.”   
  
“I’m aware of that, Dr Banner. I’m merely repeating comments made by other sources-”  
  
“No, you’re trying to get a rise out of me. Which, congratulations, you have.”   
  
“I’ll make sure we’ve got the PR ambulance ready.”   
  
“Tony.”  
  
“First of all, Mr Gurden, repeating the comments does not excuse you from spreading the same hate the original person or people were. Two, I came out as bisexual during Pride month, where many, many children also come out, because that time of year they feel safe and able to do so, surrounded by support. Thirdly, there is a word for people like you. I didn’t have it seventy years ago, because your kind of people were the majority. You had the power. Well, now I think it’s our turn. The ones you would condemn as ‘inappropriate and irresponsible’. And since it is 2012, I’m going to end this with that very word I wish I had. You’re a fucking homophobe, and I haven’t got time for it.”   
  
“-and that appears to have ended this. I’d sleep with one eye open, Gurden.”  
  
“Tony- don’t even-”   
  
“Mr Stark! Mr Stark!”   
  
\--  
  
Bucky opened the door later that night, to let Steve in. And as soon as the door closed behind him, Bucky pushed him against it and proceeded to thoroughly lick the inside of his mouth and swallow every word Steve tried to say.   
  
“That was incredibly hot. Please verbally fight people more often?” Bucky said, once he pulled back for a moment. Steve didn’t have enough time to do more than laugh at him, with a huge smile, before Bucky pulled him back down.   
  
\--  
  
“This is unfair. You both have an unfair advantage,” Steve complained, glaring at the game board.   
  
“Suck it up, you have an advantage in literally everything else,” Becca shot back, grinning a little evilly.   
  
“Yes, but this is trivia from the 90’s. The 1990’s.”   
  
“Yeah, the greatest era,” Becca said, pulling a ‘duh’ face.   
  
“I wasn’t awake yet!”  
  
Bucky, curled into Steve’s side, leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Baby.”   
  
“Yes, sweetheart?”  
  
“No, I’m calling you a baby.”  
  
“Thanks, Buck. That’s great.”   
  
“This is a lot more fun than Monopoly with these two, I can promise you that," Ida said seriously, winking at Steve. "And I barely remember the 90’s, so we’ll be in the same boat.“  
  
Steve sighed. “Fine. I will play this game that is stacked against me,” he grumbled. He did cheer up slightly when Bucky handed him a blue player piece, Bucky taking the red one. “Making a statement, Barnes?”   
  
“Maybe,” Bucky said. His smile was lovely, Steve thought that every time.   
  
Red was definitely his colour.   
  
\--  
  
“Okay, Steve. Who was the butler on Fresh Prince of Bel-air?”   
  
“...JARVIS?”   
  
\--  
  
Steve retrieved Ida’s bag out of the boot, and slung it over his shoulder, Bucky waiting just behind him with Ida.   
  
“You could stay longer,” Bucky asked, taking Ida’s hand.   
  
She patted his cheek, smiling at him, motherly and fondly. He’d forgotten how good it was to have her around, and despite his worry from the start of the week, he now didn’t want to say goodbye. “I can’t leave the farm to the helpers for too long. It’s a lot of work for them. Besides, no doubt you’ll want your space back.”  
  
“My space could always use some of you,” Bucky said, gripping her hand.   
  
“Oh?” Ida said, something very sly in the way she looked over his shoulder. Bucky glanced behind him, to see Steve, slamming the boot closed and locking the car. He turned back to give her a very tired look.   
  
“You know, I was just thinking that I was going to miss you. Not any more,” he said, and Ida laughed.   
  
“I know, honey. I know. Now, come on, you two.” She linked arms with both Steve and Bucky, Steve smiling and tucking her hand further into his elbow. Bucky’s heart grew about two sizes. “Escort an old woman to her flight?”   
  
“Ida, you’re spritely compared to me. If anything, you’re helping a pensioner,” Steve said, and Bucky was so fucking proud of him for joking about that.   
  
Ida bumped him with her hip. “Not with that body, you’re not.”  
  
They managed to get through check in with no problems, and just before she disappeared into the gates beyond, Ida turned to both of them. “Take care of each other, okay?” she said, cupping both their faces. “It’s a hard world out there, still. I don’t want to see it grind either of you down.”   
  
“Ida, we’ll be fine,” Bucky said, wrapping his hand over hers.   
  
“I’ve fought off worse,” Steve said, with a wry smile.   
  
Ida nodded, and then pointed at Steve, a steely glint in her eye. Steve had the good sense to look worried. “You hurt my nephew, I hear anything untoward, and you’re going to know the meaning of fear,” she threatened.   
  
“I think I just learned it,” Steve said, leaning back a little from the finger, which made Bucky chuckle silently.   
  
Ida patted his cheek. “Good. Well! Bucky-” She kissed his cheek. “Steve-” He leaned down so she could kiss his. “Thank you for a lovely week. I will hope to see you very soon.”   
  
“You too, Ida,” Steve said.   
  
“Call me when you land?” Bucky asked.   
  
Ida nodded. “Of course. Goodbye, my love, and my love’s love.”   
  
“Ida.”   
  
Ida winked, took her bag from Steve, and was gone.   
  
Steve blinked. “She- she’s a force of nature.”   
  
Bucky nodded seriously. “A blonde tornado.”   
  
Steve laughed, and wrapped an arm around Bucky. Bucky cuddled into him, out of habit or instinct or an ingrown urge to always be stuck to Steve’s side like a barnacle. “Let’s go home?”   
  
Bucky nodded, not trusting himself to speak.   
  
Home, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay but for real buckle urselves up, monday's chapter is a doozy!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bucky has a terrible twitter name probably because he's had it for a while and also because i am terrible at making them up.
> 
> also im sorryyyyyyyyyyy
> 
> EDIT 4/9/19: Art by the amazing[FadeFilter!](https://twitter.com/fadefilter)

**frieda is SCREAMING @kahlol**  
YOU’RE A FUCKING HOMOPHOBE AND I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR IT!!!!!!  
  
**say love AND CALL OUT HOMOPHOBES!!! @sapphosparrow**  
_replying to @kahlol_  
GOING ON MY FUCKING TOMBSTONE!!!!!!!  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
@captainrogers I wanna say I’m proud of you, but Pepper has been on the phone for like, three hours-  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
-and it’s not about me, so, how dare you move the spotlight slightly to the left.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @stark_  
Thanks, Tony. I will make it up to Pepper, somehow.  
  
**frieda is SCREAMING @kahlol**  
_replying to @stark, @captainrogers_  
We can’t even begin to tell you how much that meant to us, and how fucking cool you both are  
  
**. @barneshousedoor**  
_replying to @kahlol, @stark, @captainrogers_  
seconded  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @barneshousedoor, @kahlol, @captainrogers_  
THAT BETTER NOT BE WHO I THINK IT IS.  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @stark, @barneshousedoor, @kahlol_  
I doubt No-Secrets-Among-Avengers will work here, Tony.  
  
**. @barneshousedoor**  
_replying to @captainrogers, @stark, @kahlol_  
;)  
  
\--  
  
“On a scale from one to ten, how mad is Tony at me?” Bucky said, throwing his legs over Steve’s, as he leaned into the couch. Steve threw his head back and laughed. “So, ten?”  
  
“He feels cheated that you had it and never told him. But he’s like that, so don’t take it too far to heart.”  
  
“Oh, I’m not, definitely. I’m asking so I know the level I can to go to with teasing,” Bucky said, grinning when Steve laughed again. “Yet again, if he does come for me, I have a shield.”  
  
“I have a shield,” Steve pointed out, kissing the tip of Bucky’s nose.  
  
“Yeah, and as an extension, I have it too. Because I will definitely be standing behind it, should Iron Man come at me.”  
  
Steve rolled his eyes, threading a hand through Bucky’s hair. Bucky closed his eyes and hummed, pleased, as his nails scratched gently at his scalp.  
  
“You know, I could just come out and say who I am?” Bucky said, mumbling a little. Steve stopped scratching his head, and Bucky groaned in protest.  
  
“Buck, it’ll put a lot of attention on you,” Steve said, sounding uneasy.  
  
“I’ve already been photographed a lot with you. I’m already there. No point in keeping me hidden,” Bucky said, opening his eyes, so he can firmly look at Steve. Steve was smiling at him, but he could see the worry. Bucky stroked along his spine.  
  
“Are you sure?” Steve asked, leaning into Bucky.  
  
“I’ve been out and proud for a long time. And I’m proud of you, of being with you,” Bucky said, thumb stroking along the nap of Steve’s neck.  
  
Steve kissed him, soft and sweet. “I’m proud of you too, Buck.”  
  
Bucky grinned, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “You’ll have to take the photo, my hand is busy.”  
  
Steve laughed, taking Bucky’s phone. He set it up, and turned to kiss Bucky’s temple. Bucky grinned, eyes closed against the surge of fondness (and maybe something stronger), and Steve took the photo.  
  
\--  
  
**. @barneshousedoor**  
  
hi my names bucky and i am steve’s boyfriend. no i will not be taking comments at this time.  
  
\--  
  
Steve was right, in the end. They did get a lot more attention, and not all of it good. Bucky ended up mostly avoiding twitter, not that he had been using it much, he said. Steve still worried, concerned that he was bringing the awful parts of his life into Bucky’s, but-  
  
Things were so good between them.  
  
August passed in a blur, and despite Steve having to disappear at the last second on missions, and some of them being black-out ones, Bucky was still there when he got back. And he was enthusiastically greeted every time. Steve wasn’t so much falling in love with him, as he was wildly careening towards it, deliriously happy.  
  
The hardest part of the relationship, was stopping himself before he started tearing clothes off.  
  
“Buck-” Steve breathed, pulling away from Bucky slightly, raising himself onto his hands. Bucky nodded from underneath him, taking his hand from Steve’s chest, to flop onto his own stomach. He looked at Steve with patience and understanding and Steve felt weirdly guilty. “I’m sorry, I just-” Steve started, but Bucky reached up to cup his face.  
  
“Do not be sorry. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. That’s all it is,” he said, and Steve leaned into his hand, for a second, then dropped his head onto Bucky’s shoulder, breathing in steadily. “Not that you aren’t driving me a little insane,” Bucky said after a while, tone teasing.  
  
“I’m driving you insane?” Steve shot back, lifting his head to grin down at his boyfriend. Bucky gave him a look.  
  
“Have you _seen_ you?”  
  
“Have you seen _you_?”  
  
“You’re biased.”  
  
“You’re beautiful.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Bucky groaned, and then pulled Steve’s face back to his.  
  
\--  
  
**Avengers News @avengersnews**  
SPOTTED: Captain America and boyfriend out and about in Brooklyn.  
  
**Avengers News @avengersnews**  
Captain America declines to answers question on boyfriend. “It’s up to him what he wants to tell you.”  
  
**Avengers News @avengersnews**  
Captain America’s boyfriend spotted leaving hospital in Lower East Side.  
  
**. @barneshousedoor**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
for fucks sake my name is BUCKY and his is STEVE  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
I think you meant to write ‘Sergeant James Barnes spotted with a way-too-lucky Brooklyn boy’.  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
...their names have five letters in them? How have you forgotten?  
  
\--  
  
Bruce lifted Steve’s phone, and then gave Steve a thumbs up. “It’s recording.”  
  
“You sure you wanna record this? Could be five minutes of you getting your ass kicked,” Nat said, rolling her head over her shoulders, grinning.  
  
“True. Though, you could put it on YouTube. ‘Two normies take down super-soldier’,” Clint smirks, tossing his bo staff between his hands.  
  
Steve settled into a ready stance. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?” He challenged.  
  
The two spies shared a look, and then as one leapt at Steve.  
  
Clint was the easier one of the two, once Steve dodged Nat’s quick blows, and recovered from a precise jab to his knee. He twisted beneath Clint’s weapon, grabbing the end as he passed, using Clint’s grip on it to pull his arms back, kicked the back of his knees, and once the staff was in his hands, threw it away. Clint rolled out from under him, bouncing back onto his feet, but Steve didn’t get the chance to continue his attack as Nat launched herself at him, and Steve could already see what she was going to do, and braced himself.  
  
Nat’s legs wrapped around his neck, Clint copied Steve and took a jab at his knees, and once Steve was the slightest bit unsteady, Nat twisted her much smaller body, and managed to bring Steve down.  
  
“Stay down, Rogers,” Clint said smugly, once Nat rolled off Steve.  
  
“Oh, big mistake,” Bruce laughed.  
  
He wasn’t wrong.  
  
Steve launched back onto his feet, thanks to Nat’s training, and turned on his heel, grinning at Clint.  
  
“Shit,” Clint said, bracing himself.  
  
Steve turned Nat’s signature smile back on her, and then heard her laugh as he jumped at Clint, wrapped his legs around his head, and twisted. Clint groaned as he hit the mat, Steve landing easily on his feet, and grabbing Nat’s leg as she attempted to kick him while distracted. He ducked under it as she followed with a jab.  
  
It was a close thing, but in the end, Nat had only been training Steve for a few months, so she still had the upper hand in terms of technique. Steve was poised over Clint, hand hovering over his throat, and Nat had his leg and other arm locked.  
  
“Fucking hell, Romanov,” Steve grumbled.  
  
Nat laughed. “Nearly, nearly.” She let him go and he fell back onto his feet.  
  
“Please let me up so I can nurse the bruise my body has become,” Clint moaned.  
  
Steve stood up, frowning in worry. He held out a hand to Clint. “I tried not to hit you too hard,” he said, by way of apology.  
  
Clint took Steve’s hand, bounding to his feet. “Yeah, well, if I can take a hit from you, I can take a hit from anyone.”  
  
“A good philosophy, if you can survive it,” Bruce said, walking up to hand Steve back his phone. Steve took it, thanking him. “You’re welcome. It’s good to review, helps you make less mistakes.”  
  
“We really need to tighten up the start of that leap though, if Clint had been paying attention, he could’ve easily dodged that,” Nat mused.  
  
“You wanna go through that now? We’ve got ti-” Steve started, but then all four of them looked up at the ceiling when JARVIS spoke.  
  
“Mr Stark has analysed the data from the last mission, and has pinpointed the exact place the Kingdom Comers have been operating from.”  
  
“Shit. JARVIS, let him know we’re coming up,” Steve said, and lead the way out of the training room, Nat falling into step beside him.  
  
“Also, Thor would like to inform you that he has returned. I’ve been told he’s been in London.”  
  
“London? What was he doing there?” Bruce asked.  
  
“Fighting dark elves.”  
  
“Oh, of course. Something we all do,” Steve said, eyebrows raising into his hair.  
  
“This is good, right? Thor’s back, and we can end the attacks we’ve been fending off for months,” Clint said, sounding worried and excited.  
  
“Yes, but it I’m concerned that they may have left it there as a trap. Or a trick,” Steve said, too used to following leads on HYDRA, only to have been led astray.  
  
“Depends on how easy it was for Tony to find,” Bruce said. He really was the voice of reason, and Steve was grateful for that.  
  
“Either way, it’s worth checking out,” Nat said, looking up at Steve, determination in her eyes.  
  
Steve smiled, a little grimly. “Avengers assemble?”  
  
Nat grinned, sharklike.  
  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : I know we just got off the phone, but I already miss you.  
**Bucky** : im really worried, steve  
**Me** : Me too. But I’ve got the team. We’ll watch out for each other.  
**Bucky** : i know, and i-  
**Bucky** : im not feeling anything that is rational, its-  
**Bucky** : i know ur gonna be fine in the end, im-  
**Bucky** : i just worry every time that-  
**Bucky** : fuck, steve  
**Me** : Bucky, I am coming back to you. There is absolutely nothing on this earth that would prevent that.  
**Me** : Nothing that could ever stop me.  
**Me** : Not to be dramatic or anything.  
**Bucky** : of course not. just  
**Bucky** : call me the second you’re coming back  
**Me** : I promise.  
  
\--  
  
“Iron Man, surveillance. I want every inch of the grounds scanned for threats.”  
  
“Got it, Cap.” He took off.  
  
“Hawkeye, perimeter. Don’t let anything past us.”  
  
Clint saluted, and nocked an arrow.  
  
“Widow, you’re with me.”  
  
Nat nodded.  
  
“Bruce, wait for Code Green.”  
  
Bruce nodded too, and leaned back against the wall, making sure his ear piece was in.  
  
“Thor, you and I are the distraction. Get ‘em to come to us, then Widow can find her way in.”  
  
“Understood, Captain,” Thor said.  
  
Steve stood, and clipped his helmet on, adjusting his shield. “Then let’s do it.”  
  
\--  
  
“Cap.”  
  
“I see them, Tony.”  
  
“No, Cap. They’re kids. They’re using kids.”  
  
“Tony, are you sure?”  
  
“They’re fucking kids, Cap.”  
  
\--  
  
“I don’t want to do this,” the boy was crying, hands around Steve’s throat. Steve managed to pull one of the boy’s hands off.  
  
“What- what is making you?” He wheezed, trying to sound comforting.  
  
“I don’t want to do this!” The boy screamed.  
  
There was a whirring sound behind him.  
  
“Cap, that turret’s charging up again!” Iron Man called to him. “Aimed straight for the kids Widow’s getting out!”  
  
Fuck.  
  
Steve squeezed his eyes shut, and then grabbed the enhanced kid’s shoulders, bodily throwing him off. The boy looked relieved as he hit the ground, and Steve felt sick. He had to focus away from it, eyes narrowed on the turret. A Kingdom Comer was sitting on the back, face screwed up into ugly fury.  
  
Steve threw his shield, taking the man out, but the turret was still charging, green light building around the end of the gun.  
  
“Thor?” Steve tried, even as ran at it, figuring out a way to bring it down, away from the kids Nat had managed to free.  
  
“Outside! There are many of the small men trying to regain the children!”  
  
“Stay with them! Widow’s bringing more to you!” Steve ordered, even as dread settled in his gut.  
  
“Cap, whatever you’re going to do-” Iron Man started, but Steve cut him off.  
  
“It’ll be fine. Stay on task, Tony!” Steve grabbed the end of the turret, squinting his eyes against the bright light, and began to drag it down, pointing it at the floor, yelling with the effort. The thing barely moved, groaning against Steve’s effort.  
  
The light was near blinding, and Steve just managed to point it away from the kids, but he knew he didn’t have time to get clear.  
  
“Guys-” he started, and the turret fired.  
  
\--  
  
Bucky shivered suddenly.  
  
Becca flinched back from him. “The fuck was that?”  
  
Bucky rolled his shoulders, feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Maybe a physical reaction your shitty attempt at stealth?” He teased, trying to shake off that feeling.  
  
Becca hit him with her controller. “I am doing just fucking fine, thank you.”  
  
“Sure you are.”  
  
Becca poked her tongue out at him, then restarted the level.  
  
Bucky frowned to himself, rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
Why did he feel so strange?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't finished the last three chapters yet, but i have finished the current fic and sequel timeline, so once 'everything-' is done, the sequel will take over the same upload schedule.  
> also, again, i am 
> 
> sorrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are down to the last five chapters, omg. Well, the last five for this fic.   
> This is probably going to be the first writing project I ever finish in its entirety, holy shit. Wow. The power of SteveBucky. 
> 
> <3

Bucky rolled over in bed, blinking blearily, as his phone went off beside him. He was confused for a moment, it looked like it was still dark outside, who the fuck was calling him?  
  
And then he smiled. Well, he did ask Steve to call him the second he was heading back. Nice to know he could follow orders as easily as he dished them out.   
  
He reached out, clumsily, managing to hit the answer button and pull the phone to his ear, without dropping it on his face. “You got a thing for waking me up early, Rogers?”   
  
“Bucky, it’s Clint.”  
  
Clint? Why was Clint calling him?  
  
Dread. Cold, heavy dread, hitting his stomach so hard, he gasped. He sounded in pain, and still the realisation hadn’t really hit. Clint was calling. Clint was calling him, early in the morning, when Steve had been on mission. Steve, on mission with the Avengers.   
  
Steve-  
  
“No,” Bucky said, feeling bile in his throat, and his breath starting to catch on sobs. “No, Clint, please-”   
  
“He’s alive,” Clint said, and Bucky doubled over, his breathing harsh and unsteady, so relieved it hurt. “He took a bad hit, he’s still unconscious. We’re headed back right now. Should be a few hours. Get to the Tower, if you can,” Clint said, and Bucky was already ripping the covers off and heading for his dresser.   
  
“Is he going to be okay?” Bucky managed to get out, words lying too heavy on his lungs, like his whole body was constricting, tightening to stop the pain- fuck, Bucky had had the worst feeling about this mission, like a knife in his gut-  
  
“He’s gonna heal. He already is. He survived a hit that would’ve killed me, Nat or Tony. It’s Steve. He’s too stubborn to die.”  
  
The laugh Bucky let out was jagged. Like shattered glass. “He better be. Or I’m dragging him back so I can yell at him myself.”   
  
“Tony’s saying three and a half hours. SHIELD is already sending medics,” Clint assured Bucky, or maybe it would’ve been, if he wasn’t so terrified, and sick, and god, what was the last thing he’d said to Steve in person?   
  
“I’m going now,” Bucky said, putting the phone on loudspeaker so he could start throwing on whatever clothes were closest and shove his feet into shoes.   
  
“JARVIS will let you in. He’ll alert you when we’re ten minutes out. He’s going to be all right, Buck. He’s a hero.”   
  
“Right,” Bucky said.   
  
He didn’t want a fucking hero. He wanted Steve.  
  
\--  
  
Steve blinked his eyes open, and looked around at the blurry insides of the quinjet. His side hurt. The arm and leg on that side hurt. Everything felt like it was pulsing, and that hurt.   
  
“Ugh,” he said.   
  
“Steve?” That was Bruce’s voice. “Steve, you awake?”  
  
“Mmm,” was all Steve could get out.   
  
“You took plasma fire to your left side. You’ve got some pretty bad burns, but they seem to be healing. We had to tear part of your suit off, or it was going to heal into your skin. We’re going to have to operate back at the Tower to get the rest out.”   
  
All important information. Things that he needed to know, for when they returned, and Steve would no doubt be carted off to the medbay. But it wasn’t what he cared about.   
  
“...Bucky,” he managed to get out.   
  
He felt a hand on his shoulder. “I told him. He’s gonna be there to meet us.” Clint’s voice.   
  
“...gonna be...mad.” His voice was so low, he could barely hear it. And he had enhanced hearing.   
  
“Yeah, he sounded really pissed on the phone. You are gonna cop it when you’re better.” Clint was laughing. That’s good. Things weren’t that dire, then.   
  
“Steve. Get some rest. You did good.” Nat’s voice.   
  
“Kids?” Steve asked.   
  
A flash of red moved, Nat was nodding? “Got them all. Kingdom Comers too. The full Avengers team’s first mission since the Battle of New York was a complete success.”   
  
Steve smiled, and then the grey of the world turned to black.  
  
\--  
  
“...Bucky? Fucking hell, it’s so early, why’re you-”  
  
“Steve. He- he got hurt-”   
  
“Fuck. Where is he?”   
  
“On- on his way back to the Tower. I’m heading there too. Becca, I-”  
  
“How bad was it?”   
  
“I don’t know. Becs, I-”   
  
“Bucky. Listen to me. If they’re headed back to the Tower, he’s gonna get help. He’s gonna be fine. It’s Steve, remember?”  
  
“Becca-”   
  
“I know, I know, Bucks. I- fuck-”  
  
“-are you crying?”  
  
“Yes, god. Like, we know it was dangerous but- Fuck, it’s Steve! He can’t get hurt! ...Buck?”  
  
“...yeah, still here.”  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”  
  
“I know. I know, Becs. He’s not supposed to get hurt.”  
  
“Stay on the phone, okay? We’re in this together. I’ve got you.”  
  
“...thank you, Becca.”  
  
“Anytime, Buck. Literally, any fucking time.”   
  
\--  
  
Bucky got to the Tower, Becca still on the phone, sniffling in his ear. Not that he could judge, he’d been unable to do more than sob for the last half hour of the journey. Once at what he assumed was the entrance, however, he had no idea what to do next.   
  
He was saved from that decision, by a cool, English-accented voice. “Sergeant Barnes?” It asked.   
  
Bucky, were he a little less unsteady, probably would’ve flinched or looked around, or reacted in a normal way to a disembodied voice.   
  
As it was, nothing mattered to him more than getting inside, getting that bit closer to Steve.   
  
“Yes?” He answered, and doors to the left of him slid open.   
  
“Good to meet you, sir. My name is JARVIS. I am an AI designed by Tony Stark to assist him. I also run systems in the Tower,” the voice said, as Bucky walked inside.   
  
“How do I get to wherever the plane is going to land?” Bucky asked, and maybe if the situation wasn’t what it was, he would be more interested in JARVIS. But he cared more about getting to Steve. That was it.   
  
“The elevator at the end of the hallway, Sergeant Barnes. I will take you to the hangar.”   
  
Bucky followed the instructions, trying to breathe through the band that was tightening around his chest. He was starting to feel slightly dizzy, and tears were gathering on his eyelashes. His pulse pounded in his throat.   
  
He knew those symptoms.  
  
“I think I’m having a panic attack,” he told Becca.  
  
“Breathe. Five things you can see,” she said, through stuttering breaths, knowing the routine by heart.  
  
“Wall. Buttons. Door. My shoes. My legs.”  
  
“Still breathing? Four things you can hear.”  
  
“You. Me. JARVIS, earlier. Elevator.”  
  
“Breathe. Three things you can touch.”  
  
Bucky tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, and touched each thing he described.  
  
“Wall, cold. Jeans, rough. T-shirt, soft.”  
  
“Breathe. Two things you can remember.”  
  
“Steve-” he choked on the word.  
  
“Bucky, focus. Two things you can remember.” Becca’s voice wasn’t so much steadier.   
  
“You, last night. You laughed at my pun about...turtle shells?”  
  
“Michelle. My-shell,” Becca said, on a watery laugh.   
  
“And two days ago, I tried that terrible smoothie. I hate Kiwi fruit.”  
  
“Last thing. One thing you can smell.”   
  
Bucky took a breath. “Sterile air.”   
  
“How do you feel?”   
  
The band around his chest had loosened. His breath felt less like gasping.   
  
“You’re good at that,” Bucky said weakly.   
  
“Here for you. Always,” Becca replied.   
  
“The hangar, Sergeant Barnes. The quinjet is two hours out.” The doors to the elevator opened into a huge, open space. Bucky walked out, staring around at it. God, two hours. Two hours until he would see Steve, who was unconscious, injured, badly. What was the last thing he said to him in person?   
  
_Bye, Buck._  
_Bye, Steve_.  
  
Was that it? They spoke on the phone after that, and they had texted before the mission, but-  
  
What if that had been the last thing he had ever said to him?   
  
Bucky’s sobs started again, and he heard echoing ones from Becca.   
  
“One hour and 56 minutes, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said. “I am sure the Captain will be fine.”  
  
Bucky swallowed. “Thanks, JARVIS.”  
  
\--  
  
“We’re going to have to be quick, he’s healing over it too fast-”   
  
Who was talking?  
  
“The medical team in place?”  
  
“Yes, they’re set up. JARVIS says Bucky made it too.”  
  
Bucky?   
  
“Okay, I’m bringing her in. Page the medics, get them up here now.”   
  
That was Tony, Steve knew that voice.   
  
Whining noise, slight shudder. Quinjet landing? Louder whirring, thudding. Feet moving. A rattle.  
  
“Thor, you’re gonna have to lift him. Be gentle.”  
  
Someone put their hands under Steve, moving slowly. Thor.  
  
“I’m going to go slow, Steve. Just stay still.” Thor, definitely.   
  
“Where is he!?”   
  
Bucky. “Bucky...” Steve tried, his voice too breathy.   
  
“Bucky, I need you to step back, just for a second, we gotta get him to medbay.”  
  
“Just- just let me see him, please-”   
  
Bucky should never sound that sad. Steve blinked, trying to clear his grey vision, trying to see Bucky. He was being slowly lifted then, and hissed. His side stretched painfully.   
  
“Steve!” Bucky again. He sounded so sad.   
  
“Bucky,” he tried again, and he must’ve been loud enough, because he heard Bucky’s gasping breath.   
  
“I’m here. I’m here, you fucking idiot.” Bucky was crying.   
  
No. No, that can’t happen. He promised he’d come back. He promised-  
  
He was laid back down on something, a thin bed? Then something was pressed to his side, and he gasped.   
  
“What’s happening!? What’s going on!?”  
  
“Bucky...it’s okay...”  
  
“No, shut up, you don’t get a say in this. What’s happening?”   
  
He was moving. Something was being jabbed into his arm. They were going to put something in him, make him stronger, not a perfect soldier, but a good man- No, that was wrong. The turret...the green light-  
  
“Bucky, stay with us. They’re going to take him into surgery, get the bits of suit out of him, then he’ll heal right up.”   
  
“Listen to Nat,” Steve said, and felt a hand take his. “She...she’s smart.”   
  
“God, Steve,” Bucky said. He sounded broken. He wasn’t. Bucky wasn’t broken. Bucky was beautiful.  
  
The grey started to darken, but Steve could see the brown of Bucky’s hair, and the dark red of his shirt.   
  
“Red,” he said softly, and then his head lolled to the side.   
  
\--  
  
Clint’s hand was warm in his. He was just squeezing it gently, hands folded over each others, and it was nice of him to comfort Bucky. It was. But all it did was remind Bucky of how much he needed to thread his fingers through Steve’s, run his fingers along his wrist, feeling his pulse.   
  
God, he could’ve lost him, and he would never have known.   
  
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Clint said, and Bucky turned to look at him. He had a furrow in his brow, and sympathy in his eyes. “Seeing him so human.”   
  
“I always knew that he was,” Bucky said. His tone was flatter than he meant it to be, but it didn’t seem to insult Clint at all. In fact, his hand tightened on Bucky’s. Bucky dropped his head. He couldn’t look at that sympathy any more. “I think I’ve been waiting for this.”  
  
“We didn’t drag him out of there,” Nat said, from where she was leaning against the wall. Bucky looked up suddenly, shocked. Nat smiled at him, a little grimly. “He staggered out, held up by a boy he had saved. I was the first to spot them, and I ran over. When I got there, Steve- god, he’s such an idiot. He asked me if I’d got them all out.”   
  
Bucky closed his eyes, wanting to laugh and also cry. “So he took a huge hit, was being held up by a child, and asked after other hostages. Of fucking course he did.” Bucky leaned back against the couch, wanting to run a hand through his hair, but also not really wanting to let go of Clint.   
  
“That’s Steve all over. He doesn’t put himself first. Well. Except for you. I think being with you is the most selfish thing he’s done,” Nat said.   
  
“And he still puts himself before me,” Bucky said, a humourless laugh coming from him. “I’m going to force him to take care of himself if it’s the last thing he does.”  
  
“That’s what we like to hear,” Clint said, knocking their shoulders together. Bucky huffed a laugh, smiling without feeling it.   
  
Neither Nat or Clint seemed to need or want to fill the silence, so Bucky let it sit too.   
  
Until a doctor came out of the elevator, and Bucky, from his seat on the couch, leapt to his feet. He knew he looked panicked and frazzled. He felt so worried he was sick with it. Every part of him nearly burned with the ache to see Steve.   
  
“He’s fine. Resting. Fully conscious,” the doctor said.  
  
“Can I see him?” Bucky asked, sounding as desperate as he felt.   
  
“It’s the first thing he asked when we finished. We’re taking him up to his room, now.”   
  
“His room?” Bucky turned to face Nat and Clint.   
  
“JARVIS’ll take you. Just ask him,” Nat encouraged, pointing towards the elevator. Bucky gave her a grateful smile, and tore off towards it, nodding at the doctor as he passed her.   
  
Inside the elevator, he looked around the small space for something to contact JARVIS, and then realised everyone just spoke to the air, and that seemed to work. “JARVIS?”   
  
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”   
  
“Could you take me to Steve?” Bucky asked, looking upwards, like that was the source.   
  
“Of course.” The elevator doors shut, and sent him upwards, opening not long after, onto a hallway, not unlike an apartment building’s.   
  
“The third door on the right, sir,” JARVIS said. Bucky followed that instruction, opening the door.   
  
It opened into a huge, open space. In the middle was a stylish but impersonal living room set up, huge TV mounted on the wall, one of the couches facing a huge window. Bucky avoided looking any where near it, trying not to give himself anything else to worry about. It was bad enough being this high up at all, he didn’t need to see it. He headed deeper into the room, noticing a dining set up, and then further back, a larger kitchen than he imagined for an apartment so far up.   
  
There was a short hallway, and Bucky heard someone murmuring, and another voice replying. He headed down it, and saw a couple of nurses lingering outside one door. One of them caught his eye, and smiled softly. Sympathetically.   
  
“He’s in there, the doctor is just double checking his vitals,” he said, kindly. Bucky nodded.   
  
“Can I go in?” He asked, and god he sounded pathetic. He couldn’t feel the shame for it, though.   
  
“Of course. Go on,” the nurse said, moving to the other side of the door to stand next to the other.   
  
Bucky nodded at them, and entered the room.   
  
Steve was lying on top of the covers of a huge bed, leaning on the headboard. He was nodding to something the doctor was saying. He was wearing loose pants and a loose top. His left arm, what Bucky could see, was a mess of red, twisted skin, and that stretched up to peek out from under his collar. He looked exhausted, and was favouring his left side, but he was alive. He was alive, and his eyes had a light in them, and Bucky watched his chest move up and down, feeling tears form in his eyes again.   
  
Steve noticed him then, and something in him lit up, even as his face crumpled into something awfully sad. Bucky pressed his hand to his lips to stop himself sobbing out loud.   
  
“I’ll be back in the afternoon. Sleep, Captain. I imagine this will all heal up quickly, you already look much better than you did,” the doctor was saying.   
  
“Thank you. I’ll do that,” Steve said, not taking his eyes off Bucky. Which was good. If he looked away now, Bucky didn’t know what sort of pathetic, devastated noise he would make.   
  
The doctor left promptly, closing the door behind him.   
  
And then Bucky just stood there, staring at Steve.   
  
“Buck,” Steve started. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to lose it several times.   
  
“Did-” Bucky began, once he pulled his hand from his mouth. He winced at his tone. “Did you think? At all?”  
  
“No one else was close enough. It was going to fire on children, Buck.”   
  
Bucky coughed, trying to cover up a whimper. God, what kind of monster was he? That a part of him wanted to insist there had been another way? Steve lived. Steve survived it. He’d have no scars. Other people would’ve died doing what he did.   
  
So why did Bucky feel so devastated?“  
  
“Bucky, I promised I was coming back to you,” Steve said, and he sounded as desperate as Bucky.   
  
“You did. And you did,” Bucky agreed, his eyes focusing on the wall behind Steve, suddenly not able to look at him.   
  
“I can’t regret what I did. But I did, the second I realised, regret that it would hurt you,” Steve said, and he sounding pleading. What did he want Bucky to say? What did Bucky even want to say?   
  
And then, suddenly, he was talking. “You know, a part of me has been waiting for this. Waiting for that call. Even after the first time you went on mission, after we met,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly away from Steve’s.   
  
“Bucky,” Steve said, on a pained breath.   
  
“Because the people I care about always seem to end up in hospital beds. And I’m left sitting beside them, useless, completely fucking useless to help-”  
  
“Bucky!” Steve pleaded.   
  
“-and I didn’t realise until I got that call, until Clint- I realised how much I care about you, how much I fucking need you, and, fuck, Steve, I was so scared-” Bucky could barely get the words out, air suddenly a too precious commodity for his lungs.   
  
“Come here, Bucky, please, I need to hold you,” Steve begged, and Bucky met his eyes again, finally.   
  
And walked straight to him, sinking onto the bed beside him, Steve throwing both his arms around him and pulling him close. So close, Bucky could feel the heat from the burns, could hear his heartbeat, still steady and strong.   
  
“I am so sick of crying on you,” Bucky said, his hand fisting in Steve’s shirt, as he cried into Steve’s shoulder.  
  
“I don’t care, I don’t care, you can cry on me forever, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Steve said into his hair, his hands shaking against Bucky’s ribs. They were shaking against each other, both full to bursting with things unsaid, but Bucky couldn’t. He couldn’t tie Steve to him that way, not now.   
  
God, if he picked now to say it, he was holding it over Steve’s head like a sword, ready to drop.   
  
\--  
  
**Rebecca B** : You awake?  
**Me** : Yeah, Becca. I’m sorry about scaring you, I am okay now.   
**Rebecca B** : Good. Can you come in?   
**Me** : Yeah. Yeah, of course, I’ll just wake Bucky up and we’ll head over.  
**Rebecca B** : No. Just you.  
**Me** : Okay. I’ll be there.  
  
\--  
  
Steve dropped his phone back on the bedside table, and curled back around Bucky. They’d finally fallen asleep as the sun rose, after Bucky pulled away and came back several times, like he didn’t know if he was more angry or relieved, and Steve had been so thankful that he’d allowed Steve to hold him while he slept. Bucky turned over in his sleep, and tucked his head against Steve’s chest.  
  
His hand found its way to Steve’s heart, like he was checking, even asleep, that Steve was there, alive.   
  
Steve threaded his hand through Bucky’s fingers, keeping his hand there, like it was the only thing keeping the shattered pieces from flying apart.   
  
He pressed gentle kisses to Bucky’s temple, trying to wake him softly.   
  
“Mmm?” Bucky mumbled, sleepily. He managed to raise his head enough to look Steve in the eye, blinking away sleep. He smiled. “Blue,” he said, raising their joined hands to trace down Steve’s cheek bone.   
  
Steve kissed the tip of his finger. “Becca’s asked me to go see her, on my own. I’ll go and be back quickly.”  
  
Bucky’s eyes widened a little. “I’ll go with you,” he said, still a little sleep-coloured, but his eyes were becoming clearer.   
  
“She asked me to come on my own.”   
  
“I’ll come and- I’ll wait downstairs,” Bucky said, and Steve felt his hand tighten, and start to shake.   
  
He wrapped his arm tighter around Bucky’s middle. “You could stay here, get some more sleep,” he suggested.   
  
“Don’t ask me to stay behind. Not today,” Bucky said, and it left an ache in Steve’s chest that hurt far worse than the mostly-healed burns.  
  
How many times was he going to break Bucky’s heart?   
  
“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” Steve said, pressing his lips to Bucky’s forehead. Bucky seemed to relax, enough that he wasn’t shaking so noticeably.   
  
It took them a while to get out of bed, and even once they are, they seemed to gravitate to each other. They parted so Steve could dress, and as soon as he emerged, Bucky was back to his side. Bucky let Steve’s hand go to pull his hair back into a half-up, half-down bun, and as soon as he did that, Steve’s hand was back in his.   
  
He didn’t even have to ask Tony for a car, once they were down in the garage. Tony handed over some keys, and gave Bucky a smile that was sadder than Steve had ever seen Tony, and sympathetic.   
  
“You all right to be going out, Cap? You took a pretty big hit two days ago,” he asked, looking sceptical, but Steve could hear the worry, as good as Tony was at hiding that.   
  
“I heal fast,” Steve said, clapping Tony’s shoulder. “I’m all right, Tony.”   
  
Tony let out a sharp laugh, and pointed at his left side. “You’re telling me.” He let them go, and Steve led Bucky over to one of the less ostentatious cars in Tony’s collection. He unlocked it once they were on the passenger side, and Bucky hesitated one moment, before he let go, and climbed in. Steve pressed the keys, hard, into his own palm, and went to the driver’s side.   
  
It was only once they were heading out towards the hospital, that Steve remembered that Bucky had made the same joke about his arm, months ago.   
  
Steve felt a little sick, and a lot guilty. Bucky said nothing.   
  
\--  
  
**Avengers News @avengersnews**  
We’ve had word from Avengers HQ that Captain America is healing well from injuries sustained during a mission.   
  
**Avengers News @avengersnews**  
He is said to have no lasting damage, and will be back on the field soon.   
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
Not a chance. We’re tying him to the bed if we have to.  
  
\--  
  
Bucky’s hand was tight against his spine, and Steve held him back just as tight. He was only going upstairs, he told himself. Bucky would be right there, the whole time, and then he’d take him back to the Tower, and they’d climb back under the sheets again. He would hold him, and tell him as many times as his breath would allow that he was sorry.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he said, to prove a point.   
  
“I know. And I am too,” Bucky whispered.   
  
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”   
  
“I’m acting like I won’t see you again. You’re going three floors up.”   
  
Steve pressed his face in the side of Bucky’s head. “Don’t be sorry for that. Not now.”  
  
Bucky didn’t have a reply for that, which shattered pieces of Steve’s heart further.   
  
Eventually, Bucky did let him go, and stepped back, like if he was close to Steve he wouldn’t let him go. Steve hung onto his hand for just a moment longer, and then stepped away too.   
  
Even once he was on the fourth floor, stomach churning with nerves as to what Becca wanted to say to him, he still had the urge to go back downstairs, wrap Bucky in his arms, and maybe not let go for a few hundred years.   
  
He got to Becca’s door, and found it only slightly open. He knocked, and walked in.   
  
Becca was sitting up, leaning against pillows stacked behind her. Her eyes were red, puffy, and she had deep bags under eyes.  
  
Bucky wasn’t the only Barnes breaking his heart today.  
  
“Becca, I’m sorry,” he said, feeling woefully inadequate.   
  
Becca’s head shot up, and she took in a huge, gasping, relieved breath. “Steve!” She opened her arms, and Steve gratefully accepted her hug, holding her tight, but not enough to hurt her, always so careful.   
  
“You are okay?” Becca said, her voice trembling.   
  
“Yes, absolutely, Becca. I’m healing fast, the scarring is fading,” Steve said, pulling back to take his jacket off, showing her his left arm. Her fingers trembled as she traced down red, scarred skin, looking far more healed than it had earlier that same day.   
  
“Do you even understand what you have?” She asked, voice weak. She looked up at him, her eyes grey like an oncoming storm.   
  
Was she- god, she meant the serum. How easily he could recover. Fuck, he shouldn’t have come.  
  
“Becca, I’m sorry, if I knew anything about more, or if someone knew how to recreate it, safely-” Steve started, and Becca let out a hollow laugh.   
  
“You think I’m jealous of the serum? You think that’s what this is about?” Becca shook her head, giving him an accusing look. Steve didn’t drop his head. He took every second of it. “You’ve known Bucky for five months. Five. It took me two years to get him to tell me about his PTSD.”   
  
Steve sat. He couldn’t stay standing for this.  
  
“He didn’t talk to anyone about it. Elise and Thistle still don’t know the full story. He told me, because one day, someone dropped an oxygen tank outside my room, the noise was so loud, and Bucky had a panic attack so bad, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe, Steve.”   
  
Steve did not drop his eyes, did not stop looking at Becca. He would not allow himself to look away.  
  
“It took that, to get him to talk to me. It took me a few texts to get him to talk to you about it. To be honest with you. You are the first person he’s willingly opened up to in three fucking years, Steve. And once I’m gone, you’re it. You are it.”   
  
...Steve suddenly knew exactly where she was going with this, and his jaw tightened against the tears building in his eyes.   
  
“I’ve got a clock over my head. I haven’t got a lot of numbers left. And when that clock runs out, I need to know that there is someone who is going to be there for him, to tell him to call his psych. To recognise when he slips. To be his place to land when his brain decides to be a shit. And I know that’s unfair! I know I’m asking a lot, and fuck, you’ve got shit of your own going on-”  
  
Becca took a shuddering breath in, and angrily swiped at her eyes. “-and I know it’s pointless to say ‘be careful’ or whatever, I know your job is dangerous, and important, but...just remember that if Captain America dies, so does Steve Rogers. And we need him more.”  
  
Steve grabbed her hand, holding it between his two. Becca looked up at him, and she wasn’t angry any more. She was more tired than Steve had ever seen her.   
  
“We’re not giving up on you,” Steve said.   
  
Becca looked at him sadly. “There’s nothing left to fight for, Steve. You can’t throw your shield at my shitty body. But you can hold it in front of Bucky.”  
  
Steve pressed his head to their joined hands.  
  
“‘cause he’s gonna do the same for you.”   
  
“I don’t want him to.”  
  
“Then you know how he feels.”  
  
Steve lifted his head. Becca waved a hand, as if to say ‘yeah, that’s how it is.’  
  
“I think you’re smarter than me,” Steve said.   
  
“Duh.” Becca’s smile was small. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”  
  
Steve let go of her hand, so he could gather his brave, smart friend into his arms and hug her tightly.   
  
But never too tight.   
  
\--  
  
**Becca** : get some rest, okay?  
**Me** : okay. ill see you as soon as i can  
**Becca** : dont worry about that.   
**Me** : _typing..._  
**Becca** : you dont have to explain. i know  
**Becca** : you do the same when i get sick  
**Me** : im sorry  
**Becca** : dont be. do what you need to  
**Becca** : hell, maybe do him  
**Me** : okay, now im not coming to visit  
**Becca** : good. go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is what earned this fic the mature rating... ;)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bowm chicka wow-wow

Bucky curled his hand around the hem of his t-shirt, still feeling the bite of his nails in his palm. He readjusted himself on Steve’s bed, leaning up against the headboard, trying to quell the urge to reach out and tug Steve closer.  
  
Steve sat on the edge, the doctor from that morning checking him over. He was saying something in an amazed tone of voice, as he checked the scarring down Steve’s arm, but Bucky wasn’t really listening. He was watching Steve’s reaction, which at the moment was military-trained neutral. Bucky knew it. He’d used it.   
  
“If you feel anything weird, itching, crawling, anything that still burns or if the pain comes back, let us know, and we’ll try and balance it out,” the doctor was saying.   
  
Steve looked behind him to Bucky, with an apology in his eyes, then turned back to the doctor. “I’ve taken shell fire before. Healed up within a few days then, too.”   
  
Bucky closed his eyes tight, lowering his head. God, of course he would apologise for that, even though Bucky wasn’t even alive yet.   
  
“Take care, Captain. Let us know if you need anything,” the doctor was saying, and Steve probably nodded or shook his hand, because then Bucky could hear the doctor leaving, shutting the door behind him. The mattress shifted as Steve moved, and then his hand was on Bucky’s, gently uncurling it.   
  
He held it, even as he slipped back under the covers. Bucky opened his eyes, watching as Steve settled.   
  
“I’m not tired,” Steve said, squeezing Bucky’s hand.   
  
Bucky slid under the covers with him, and Steve gathered him close.  
  
“Yeah. Me neither.” Bucky tucked his face into Steve’s shoulder.   
  
\--  
  
The first couple of days, Steve’s guilt still consuming him, he and Bucky stayed in Steve’s part of the Tower. Steve kept things simple, didn’t try to suggest Bucky do things on his own, and was almost grateful that Bucky pressed into his side as often as he did. He was still reeling, somewhat, from what Becca said, and was terrified that he was going to ruin something with how much he was terrified.   
  
On the third day, Bucky in Steve’s clothes that were too big for him in a very endearing way, Steve and Bucky left Steve’s floor, and Steve trained with Nat, Bucky watching on from the sidelines.   
  
Steve managed to bring Nat down with one of her favourite moves, and the both of them looked over at Bucky when he whooped.   
  
“Biased,” Nat grumbled, but Steve could see that smile.   
  
“He’s just got good taste,” Steve countered, helping her back up.   
  
“Was that the first time he got you, Nat?” Bucky asked.   
  
“First and last!” Nat said, pointing at him almost threateningly.   
  
Bucky laughed, and it was the first time Steve felt like things were going to be all right, go back to normal.   
  
They joined Nat and Clint for dinner, Bruce away at a conference, Thor visiting his girlfriend, and Tony out with Pepper at a gala. Steve sat on the floor, between Bucky’s legs, Nat sprawled the length of the couch, Clint on the armrest closest to her. They avoided talk of the mission completely, despite the multiple news reports that had come out over the course of the last few days, Nat instead grilling Bucky on his movie taste outside film noir, and Steve wasn’t particularly surprised to find his and hers lined up pretty closely.   
  
“So, Bucky. What do you think of the Tower?” Clint asked after a while, one leg thrown over Nat’s shoulder.   
  
“I think there’s a lot of space for six people,” Bucky said, threading his hand through Steve’s hair, fingers combing through the strands. Steve leaned his head back against Bucky’s knee.   
  
“So we need to start recruiting?” Nat said.   
  
“More people watching this one can only be a good thing,” Bucky replied, tapping Steve’s head.   
  
Nat and Clint laughed, but Steve just looked back at Bucky. He was smiling, but he looked tired.  
  
Steve remembered, from months ago. _“Every time I called, she needed a shoulder. So I was that for her. I took on all of her fears and worries, trying to make it easier for her.”_  
  
_“And you stopped telling her yours.”_  
  
And from three days ago. _“He’s gonna do the same for you.”_  
  
Steve pressed his face into Bucky’s knee, murmuring another apology. Bucky went back to combing Steve’s hair.   
  
\--  
  
The next morning, Bucky cuddled closer into Steve. “I need to go home,” he said quietly.   
  
Steve could not help the relief he felt. Things were going back, they were going to be normal again. He also felt the smallest bit of disappointment. He had started to get used to waking up with Bucky in his arms. “Okay,” he replied, kissing the top of Bucky’s head. “Do you want a ride?”   
  
“Yeah. The subway sucks.” Steve laughed.   
  
They took a very long time getting up, Bucky changing his mind several times and pulling Steve back down again, Steve going willingly every time. He didn’t initiate, still feeling like he didn’t deserve it. Bucky was doing it to make sure Steve was still there, alive, after all.   
  
Once they separated, Steve let Bucky shower first, and handed him back his clean clothes, though there was a slight bit of regret that he wouldn’t be wearing Steve’s. He was quick, Steve was quick, and then Bucky was ready to go. Steve grabbed his keys, and took Bucky’s hand, about to lead him back downstairs.   
  
“You’re not bringing anything?” Bucky asked. He sounded a little lost.   
  
Steve looked at him in confusion. “What do I need to bring?”   
  
“It’s not particularly comfortable to sleep in jeans.”  
  
Steve’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. “You want me to stay?”   
  
Bucky looked like for just one moment he was going to say something snarky, maybe in that dry tone of voice. But then he took a breath.   
  
“I feel like if I stop looking at you, or touching you, you’re going to evaporate. I’m sorry, I know that’s fucking needy, I’ll get over it in a few days. It’s like this with Becca too,” Bucky said, and then laughed, humourlessly. “Well, you know that. You saw it.”  
  
_You are the first person he’s willingly opened up to in three fucking years, Steve._  
  
“Don’t be sorry for that. Bucky, do not be sorry for asking for what you need,” Steve said, feeling helpless and useless, even as he pulled Bucky into his arms. Bucky tightened his grip on their joined hands, leaning into the join of Steve’s neck and shoulder.   
  
“I don’t want you to think you have to- I don’t know, disrupt your life because you have to comfort your clingy-ass boyfriend-”  
  
“Please stop insulting my boyfriend. He’s been through a lot, and I’m proud of him for asking for help,” Steve said into Bucky’s hair. “Disrupt away. Take all my time. I am getting just as much out of having you close.”   
  
“Then stay,” Bucky said into Steve’s collarbone, quietly.   
  
Steve pressed his lips to Bucky’s forehead, and separated himself just long enough to pack a bag. He took Bucky’s hand again, and they headed down into the garage. He grabbed two helmets as he passed them, dropping Bucky’s hand to pass him one, heading to his bike.   
  
He had clipped the helmet on, when he felt a hand unclip it, and gently pull it off.   
  
He looked at Bucky in surprise. Bucky smiled softly. “You don’t need it, remember?”   
  
I trust you, were the underlying words.   
  
Steve gathered him close again, and kissed his lips for the first time in days, Bucky surging up into him.   
  
\--  
  
They didn’t make it further than the couch once they got to Bucky’s, Steve dumping his bag as he sat down, Bucky curling into his side. Steve ran a hand soothingly down his spine, his other hand taking Bucky’s. He ran his thumb down his forefinger.  
  
“I started doing that to Becca. Stroking her finger,” Bucky said quietly.   
  
“I’m not really sure why I started. Probably the need to be touching you constantly,” Steve replied,   
  
“Feeling’s pretty mutual, babe,” Bucky laughed into his shoulder.   
  
Steve let the silence sit for a while, listening to Bucky’s breathing. Like he needed to be sure Bucky was still there. “Are you seeing anyone, Buck?” he asked, eventually.   
  
“I don’t have anyone else on the side, dumbass. Just you,” Bucky replied, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. He looked very fond. Steve felt a stab of guilt.  
  
“I meant a professional. A psychologist, or the like.”   
  
Bucky’s eyes flicked away from his, and his shoulders sank, like air was being let out of him. Like he was hollow inside. Steve felt even worse.   
  
“Yeah. When I can get appointments,” Bucky said, mostly into Steve’s shoulder.   
  
“Is it helping?”   
  
“I’m better than I was. Becca can attest to that.”   
  
Steve took a breath in. “That’s what she wanted to tell me yesterday. To make sure you would be okay.”   
  
“She meddles.”  
  
“She’s right to,” Steve said, and when Bucky sat up he had to fight the urge to pull him back. “You closed yourself off for a long time, and she wants to make sure you’ll always have someone to talk to. I’m here for that.”   
  
Bucky looked at him, and Steve was confused by how analysing it seemed to be. “Are you seeing someone?” he asked, and Steve looked at him, brow furrowed.  
  
“I’m fine,” he said, puzzled.   
  
Bucky’s look was disapproving, and disbelieving. “Really. After all the things you’ve seen, you’re fine?”   
  
“I haven’t needed to-”  
  
“You are a war veteran. You nearly died crashing a plane into the Arctic. You lost 70 years, and everyone you knew. You’ve been shot multiple times, and that’s the times that I know about. You got shot the day we met. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. How many times have you taken fire for someone else?”   
  
Steve’s breathing felt very shallow all of a sudden, and just like with Becca, he forced himself to keep eye contact with Bucky.   
  
“You need someone to talk to. You’re not a god, you’re human. You’re not meant to shoulder all of this alone,” Bucky said.  
  
“I’m not, I have people around me who can-”  
  
“I don’t mean the Avengers, or SHIELD, or whoever backs you up in a fight. I’m talking about you, letting these awful things build up inside you. Because one day you will break. I did. Elise and Thistle did. Amira did. He saw me in the hospital at base, and broke. No one goes through that shit and is fine, Steve. Do not try that with me.”  
  
Steve leaned back into the couch, looking away from the fierceness in Bucky’s eyes. He couldn’t look anymore.   
  
“Steve. Even if you only talk to me, it’s a start.”  
  
“I don’t want to-”  
  
“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘burden you’, I will remind you of what you said to Becca, five months ago.”  
  
“You already have enough. I don’t want to add to it.”   
  
Bucky was silent for a moment, and Steve wondered if that meant he could just go back to being curled around him, maybe not talking again for a while, when Bucky dropped his hand, and stood.   
  
God, he was really good at fucking up the things he wanted the most to work, wasn’t he?   
  
And then Bucky was sitting on his lap, forcing Steve to look at him. Steve’s mouth dropped open a little bit, hands twitching close to Bucky’s calves, itching with the need to touch, warring with the idea that he couldn’t.   
  
“If you think that’s how relationships work, you’ve got the whole idea wrong,” Bucky said, thumb stroking down Steve’s jaw, like he was apologising for the surprise.   
  
Steve swallowed. “I’ve never been in one. I wouldn’t know.”   
  
Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, like that admission hurt him, and then stared into Steve’s eyes with steely determination. “We are a team. We share our shit, even if it’s hard. This is not about you taking care of me, and never getting anything back-”  
  
“Buck, I get so much from being around you-”  
  
“And so do I. But it’s not just about going on dates, or flirting, or making out furiously in corners. It’s being each others support. And you’ve been mine for as long as I’ve known you. It’s my turn. Let me hold you up, Steve. God knows you need it.”   
  
Steve swallowed again. He took in a shaky breath.   
  
He raised his hand to rest on Bucky’s hip, and Bucky leaned down to press their foreheads together.   
  
“They were using kids, Bucky,” Steve whispered.   
  
“I know. Nat said.”   
  
“No, Buck. They were using kids...to test the serum.”   
  
Bucky breathed in sharply. “Your serum?”   
  
“On kids, Bucky. And it’s all my fault. Fucking children-” Steve said, cutting himself off when the words hurt too much.  
  
Bucky just held him, and Steve sank into him.   
  
\--  
  
Steve was somewhat confused when he woke up the next morning. He was in a smaller bed than usual, and the sun was coming from the wrong side of the room.   
  
But Bucky was still wound around him, hand resting over his heart.   
  
He remembered, eventually, that he was at Bucky’s still. He had a vague recollection of them getting into bed, without changing. So much for bringing something to sleep in, Steve thought, laughing softly.   
  
Bucky stirred, his hand clenching in Steve’s shirt, and Steve pulled him closer.   
  
“Hey,” Bucky said faintly, voice a little sleep-weak.   
  
“Hi,” Steve replied, nosing into his hair.   
  
Bucky shifted a little, one of his legs going between Steve’s, winding them closer together. Steve had no complaints to that. He was happy enough to hold Bucky, breathing him in, taking comfort from his warmth.   
  
Bucky tilted his head up, and before Steve could ask if he was okay, he pressed his lips to Steve’s.   
  
Steve had no complaints about that either.   
  
They exchanged careful, soft kisses, almost sleepy. Like Bucky was still waking up. Steve didn’t mind that, he would take whatever Bucky was willing to give him.   
  
And then Bucky deepened it, his hand moving up to grab at the back of Steve’s head, lips urging Steve’s open. Steve followed that instruction, and then they-  
  
They didn’t stop.   
  
Steve wasn’t so much kissing Bucky, as he was breathing him. It was like Bucky was the only thing keeping him alive. Bucky made soft, desperate sounds, and Steve’s breath kept catching, stuttering in his throat, like even his lungs couldn’t take them. Bucky said his name, and Steve could taste it.   
  
Steve pushed Bucky onto his back gently, and moved on top of him, leaning on his forearm so that he wouldn’t crush Bucky beneath him, and from that angle, he could press his mouth harder into Bucky, losing himself, discarding that away, because it didn’t matter when everything around him was Bucky.   
  
But Bucky pushed him back, lightly, and once Steve was hovering over him, worried, he moved his hand from his chest to cup Steve’s cheek.  
  
“We should slow down,” he said gently, stroking Steve’s cheekbone.   
  
“I don’t want to,” Steve admitted. It surprised even him, how fast and sure the words came to him.   
  
Bucky gasped in a breath, his thumb stopping. Steve watched his chest heave, and felt himself echo those heavy breaths.   
  
“Then don’t,” Bucky said, finally, and Steve went back to him.   
  
\--  
  
Steve threw his shirt to the side.  
  
Bucky’s hand trembled over his chest, his finger tips light, like Steve was something fragile. Delicate.   
  
Steve had to bite down on his lip, to stop the emotions that bubbled up in response to that.   
  
Then Bucky’s hand traced down his left side.   
  
“I thought there would be more scarring,” he said quietly.   
  
“I don’t scar,” Steve said, barely above a whisper.   
  
“Not physically,” Bucky said, looking up at him.   
  
Steve leaned back in.  
  
\--  
  
Steve helped Bucky take his shirt off, Bucky flinching a little.   
  
“It looks different without the shirt,” he said, and pressed his left side into the bed more, like that would hide it.   
  
Steve took in the scarring around the shoulder, and felt his heart catch when he recognised three of them as bullet wounds. He bent down and kissed each of them, feeling Bucky shake. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered into his shoulder.   
  
Bucky pulled Steve’s face back to his, kissing him deeply.   
  
Steve pulled back far enough that he could speak, close enough that his lips brushed Bucky’s. “I love you.”   
  
The sound Bucky made was broken, and somehow both wonderful and sad.   
  
He pulled Steve back down.   
  
\--  
  
“I love you,” Bucky gasped into Steve’s mouth.   
  
Steve swallowed the words, tucking them next to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you guys enough for the response to this fic. It's a joy to read all your comments, and every time I see the kudos counter go up, my heart grows two sizes.  
> So it's basically taken over my chest. 
> 
> We are down to the final four chapters now, and I hope you guys stick with me once the sequel starts going up too. I'm really proud of this story and this AU, and you guys are a huge part of that. 
> 
> Thank you!   
> (also follow me on twitter, i'm going to try and do sneak peaks or at least updates. i also reblog that good good stucky content)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> continued bowm chicka wow wow
> 
> also hi peggy :D

Bucky was very quickly going to become addicted to this.   
  
Lying with Steve, skin to skin, Steve tracing patterns onto his stomach, the other arm wrapped around him. Bucky’s hand tucked around the back of his neck, fingers stroking through the shorter hairs there. Steve’s forehead pressed to his, his breath warm on Bucky’s lips.   
  
“Maybe there was some merit to going slow,” Bucky said, and tried not to laugh when Steve’s hands suddenly stilled, and he pulled away slightly.   
  
“I’m sorry, did you not want to?” He asked, and sounded so worried.   
  
Bucky had to laugh. “Of course I did, you dope. I meant that I don’t know how I’m going to ever leave this bed now.”   
  
Steve closed his eyes, like he was mentally chiding himself, and then tucked himself back beside Bucky. “I know exactly what you mean,” he murmured, his hand moving up to Bucky’s ribs.   
  
Bucky happily went back to just lying together, not really caring that was probably heading towards the afternoon. He wouldn’t care if they lay here until the sun went down. He’d fuck his body clock for all of time to just lie here with Steve.   
  
Steve pressed a kiss just under his eye, and then his lips just stayed there, and Bucky’s heart thudded with how much he loved him. Actually loved him.   
  
“I meant it,” Bucky said, and Steve made a ‘hmm?’ noise. “I love you.”   
  
Steve sat up enough to look him in the eyes, and Bucky’s smile grew when he saw how warm and fond and knowing it was. He stroked Bucky’s side. “I know. I love you too.”   
  
Bucky pulled him closer, barely able to kiss him he was smiling so hard.   
  
And if they lost a few more hours, Steve’s hands dipping lower, Bucky didn’t mind.   
  
\--  
  
It was late afternoon by the time they managed to leave the bed, mostly because Steve’s stomach made a noise so loud that Bucky did not stop laughing for a solid five minutes. They also risked using all the hot water in the building when they got in the shower, Bucky eventually pulling Steve out.  
  
“I really don’t want you to starve to death,” he teased, grinning at Steve, and Steve barely restrained the urge to just pull him back.   
  
They dressed, Bucky pulling a shirt on as well as pants, but took Steve’s shirt away and throwing it as far as he could from him. Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “I have another shirt in my bag, Bucky.”  
  
“No, you don’t. You don’t own any other shirts, ever,” Bucky declared, while making a beeline for the living room, to get said bag. Steve easily caught up to him, and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him back. Bucky made a token noise of protest, laughter quickly overtaking that. Steve pressed a kiss into his neck.   
  
Bucky tilted his head back. “Okay, fine. You can put one on if we have to leave,” he fake-grumbled.   
  
Steve grinned, and kissed him. “Your generosity is noted.”   
  
“I’m a giver.”  
  
“Yes, you are,” Steve said softly. Bucky turned in his arms, Steve loosening his grip enough to let him.   
  
Bucky’s hand went back into Steve’s hair, and he rose up to kiss him. Steve linked his hands together, and pressed closer.   
  
“Stop that,” Bucky said, once they parted. “Or we will be right where we started this morning.”   
  
Steve pretended to think for a moment, and then shrugged. “Oh well?”   
  
Bucky smacked his shoulder lightly. “Work with me, Steve, or I swear to god, the public will never see you again.”   
  
“That’s not the threat you think it is.”  
  
“What, you going to overpower me?”   
  
“In a very specific way,” Steve said, ducking his head to kiss Bucky’s neck again.   
  
“Oh my god, Steve-” Bucky said, frustrated. Steve grinned. “Okay, stop it, you’ve had your fun.”   
  
They did make it into the kitchen, Steve not attempting to get a shirt again, more than happy with the way Bucky got distracted every so often, sneaking looks at him. Steve leaned against the counter, arching his back, and once Bucky looked over, he turned his head and grinned knowingly at him. Bucky blushed, but kicked at Steve’s leg in retaliation.   
  
“We should probably talk,” Bucky said, once they were on the couch with food, his legs over Steve’s.   
  
The words did send a thrill of panic through Steve, but ignored it, knowing it was just a knee-jerk reaction, brought on by the last few days. He nodded at Bucky, raising an eyebrow in question.   
  
“I know we kind of just...jumped in,” Bucky said, gesturing between them. Steve grinned. “Stop it.” Bucky pointed at him, but was smiling smugly. “We still need to talk about how far you want to go.”   
  
“And you,” Steve pointed out.   
  
Bucky laughed. “Honestly? You’re very good with your hands. If that’s as far as you want, I’m very okay with that.”   
  
“It’s really all I was able to do. You don’t really get a lot of time to do anything else when you’re hiding in dark corners,” Steve said, trying not to preen at the compliment.   
  
“So you’ve never...” Bucky gestured.   
  
“Gone the whole way? No. Bit difficult to do, back in the day. Arnie told me about a club, secret one, and we traded days that we went. Pretty much the only way to meet like-minded guys back then.”   
  
Bucky frowned at that, and Steve could see how angry he was on Steve’s behalf. Steve put his plate on the coffee table, so he could take Bucky’s face in his hands. “That was then. Things have changed now,” he said gently, and smiled when Bucky relaxed, leaning into Steve’s hands.   
  
“So, is it something you want to try?” He asked, once Steve had dropped his hands to his legs.   
  
Steve felt his face flush, as he tried not to imagine the idea. “There’s really not much I don’t want to do with you, though you would have to tell me how,” he said.   
  
Bucky blushed too, and his hand fidgeted with the edge of his plate. The silence was charged, tension underlying it, and Steve felt like he was about to vibrate with the sudden need to leap at Bucky.   
  
“I have the right things for it. If you wanted,” Bucky said, shrugging casually.   
  
“What, now?” Steve asked, heart thudding.   
  
Bucky shrugged again, but Steve saw the want in his eyes. He took the plate from Bucky, and before he could say anything, swung him into his arms.   
  
“Oh, all right then,” Bucky laughed, and wrapped his arm around Steve.   
  
\--  
  
“Yep,” Bucky said, hand still buried in Steve’s hair, Steve lying across his chest, both of them breathing heavily. Nothing between them but sweat. “You’ve ruined me for other men, forever.”  
  
Steve laughed. “Good,” he said, mouthing Bucky’s collarbone. He laughed harder when Bucky swatted his head.  
  
\--  
  
Bucky took his scarf off when they got to the hospital, forgetting why he wore it in the first place.   
  
“Holy fuck, Bucky, what the hell!?” Becca said, and Bucky immediately slapped a hand over the huge, though faded, purple mark on his neck.   
  
“What? What’s going on?” Steve asked, looking at Bucky like something was wrong.   
  
“What the fuck did you do, Steve, maul him?” Becca said, with a lot of disgust. Bucky saw the amusement in her eyes though.  
  
Steve smiled, very proud of himself, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’ve never got to do that before!”  
  
“The rule is, generally, not where people can see!” Becca scolded.   
  
“Where’s the fun in that?” Steve said, dropping into his usual chair.   
  
“I hate this,” Becca said. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”   
  
“Oh, stop it. You spent a month trying to get us together, this is what you get,” Bucky said, kissing his sister’s temple.   
  
\--  
  
Bucky started regularly coming to the Tower, joining in on team dinners, watching while they trained. Steve would stay at Bucky’s just as often. They went out on dates, they had incredible sex, and when Bucky or Steve had a bad day, they would sit and talk about it. Steve sketched, all the time. He left notebooks all over the Tower, had two at Bucky’s house, and was making steady progress filling every single one.   
  
He’d had never been so happy in his entire life.  
  
He had to go back out in the field eventually, and the night before he went on his first since September, he spent the whole night pressing kisses and saying ‘I love you’ into Bucky’s skin, both of them wound around each other, Steve wishing Bucky could leave bruises of his fingertips in his skin.   
  
Part of him wanted to let Bucky sleep the next morning, and leave quietly, but he knew how much that would hurt him. Instead, he gently woke him up.   
  
“I love you,” he said, again, and knew that it was nowhere close to the last time he would say it.   
  
“I love you. Please be safe,” Bucky whispered. Steve kissed him, not to say goodbye, but ‘I’m coming back.’  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : Can you help me with something?   
**Bucky** : anything.  
**Me** : I want to look up what happened to everyone. I’ve been putting it off for nearly two years, now.  
**Bucky** : of course, baby. when are you back?  
**Me** : Should be tomorrow afternoon.   
**Bucky** : okay. come to mine.   
**Me** : I love you.   
**Bucky** : i could hear that every minute of every day and never get tired of it  
**Bucky** : i love you too.   
  
\--  
  
Steve threaded his fingers through Bucky’s hand. Bucky squeezed, gently. “Ready?” he asked.  
  
Steve breathed in, willing the ache in his chest away. ‘Arnold Roth’ was in the search bar, he just had to hit enter.   
  
“It’s okay, Steve. We can leave this one for later. You’ve already gone through a lot of people-” Bucky said, stroking Steve’s finger with his thumb, but Steve shook his head.   
  
“I need to do this,” he said, and reached out, hand hovering over the Enter key. Bucky squeezed his hand again, and Steve hit the button. The first entry was a Wikipedia page, which meant Arnie was somewhat famous. Steve’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He clicked on it.   
  
“Arnold ‘Arnie’ Roth, born September 9, 1918, was a gay rights and anti-military activist,” Steve read out. He read further down, mouthing the words as he read them. “...partner, Michael. He found someone.”  
  
Bucky kissed Steve’s shoulder. “He found someone,” he said, and Steve could feel his smile.   
  
“Roth regularly voiced his opposition to the way his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, was portrayed by both the American government, and the comics he inspired. He was rumoured to have shouted at Senator Fredricks, while the Senator was dining, ‘Steve Rogers was a hell raiser, a socialist, and used to eat fascists like you for breakfast!’.”   
  
Bucky laughed. “Well, he did know you, didn’t he?”  
  
“He was definitely exaggerating. A strong breeze used to be able to push me over,” Steve said drily, and Bucky laughed again.   
  
Steve read the last part, and felt tears gather in his eyes. “Roth died in 2008, from pancreatic cancer.” He turned his head, dropping it into Bucky’s shoulder.   
  
“He lived a long, full life,” Bucky said, kissing his forehead.   
  
“I missed him. By three years.”   
  
“I’m so sorry, Steve,” Bucky said softly, letting Steve’s hand go, to wrap his arm around him.   
  
\--  
  
**Private message** : _@luckythirteen_  
  
**sharon** :  
Hi, Captain Rogers. My name is Sharon Carter. I’m hoping you get this, and I’m sorry to contact you this way, but I really didn’t know how else to do it. I’m messaging on behalf of my aunt, Margaret Carter. She’d really like you to visit, if you can. We’re in Washington DC. Hopefully you can, but she understands that you might be busy.  
  
**Steve Rogers** :  
Peggy’s alive?  
  
\--  
  
“You don’t have to come with me," Steve said, taking Bucky’s hand.   
  
Bucky sat up, the covers falling to just cover his lap. “Do you want me there?”  
  
“Yes, but I know that-”  
  
“Then I’m coming.”   
  
Steve cupped his face. “Buck, you really don’t have to. I know that it might be awkward for-”  
  
“Steve, really, shut up,” Bucky said, and Steve closed his mouth. “Peggy was important to you. Is important to you. She’s a part of your history, and you loved her.”   
  
Steve opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again when Bucky held up their joined hands to shush him.   
  
“She gave you something to fight for, that was personal and real. She supported you. And I fucking love her for that, too. So I’m going, to thank her. For loving the man I love.”   
  
Steve sat still for a moment, staring at Bucky in wonder.   
  
Then he launched himself at Bucky, to cover his face in kisses.   
  
“Steve!” Bucky yelled, laughing as he tried to get away.   
  
“You’re amazing,” Steve said, and then kissed his mouth.   
  
“What, you thought I’d be jealous?” Bucky teased.   
  
“Well, yes.”   
  
“Are you jealous of all the guys I was with before you?”   
  
Steve frowned. “Well, now I am.”   
  
“Oh my god, fuck you, Steve,” Bucky laugh-groaned.   
  
Steve grinned. “Why don’t you come over here and say that?”   
  
Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve, and pulled him back down with him.  
  
\--  
  
They managed to get out of New York a couple of weeks later, Becca wishing them luck the day before, and Nat and Clint dropped them off at the airport.   
  
“Good luck, Steve,” Nat said, hugging Steve.   
  
“Thanks, Nat. See you both in a few days?” He replied, and they separated.   
  
“Yeah. We’ll come pick you up,” she said.   
  
“Give Peggy our love, too. She’s a badass,” Clint said.   
  
“Will do,” Steve said. He waited until they were in the car, heading off, before he took Bucky’s hand, and the two of them walked into the terminal.  
  
He wasn’t nervous through the flight, or the drive to the hotel, or the drive to the aged care home Peggy was in. But once he stepped out of the car, hearing Bucky thank the driver as he did too, his heart was seized by terrible panic. Peggy was in there, but it wasn’t going to be the Peggy he remembered. It wasn’t going to be the woman who sat by him in a bombed out bar, or shot with pinpoint accuracy to stop an escaping nazi. He wondered if this was going to be the moment that made Steve actually want to go back.   
  
“Hey, hey,” Bucky said, and then he was in Steve’s line of sight, cupping his face. “What’s going on? What’re you thinking?”   
  
“She’s not- I’m the same, but she-” Steve said, pressing his forehead to Bucky’s.   
  
“Yeah, she’s going to be old. But she’s here, Steve. She’s been waiting a long time to see you. And you’ve been waiting just as long to see her,” Bucky said, his fingers brushing along Steve’s hairline.   
  
Steve exhaled a little heavily. “I don’t want to look at her and see everything I lost,” he admitted.   
  
“Then don’t. Look at her, and see everything she gained.” Steve looked at him, brow furrowed. “She fought the same war you did. She saw it end, and she lived a life afterwards. Celebrate that.”   
  
Steve looked up, past Bucky, at the building’s entrance. “She survived the war,” he said, half to himself.  
  
“She did. And you did. You’re both here.”  
  
Steve looked back at Bucky. “I think if you weren’t here, I would’ve run.”   
  
Bucky shook his head. “I don’t believe that for a second. Steve Rogers doesn’t run.”  
  
“I think you’ve mixed me up with Captain America,” Steve said, smiling.   
  
Bucky grabbed his collar, and pulled him down, kissing him softly. “I could never do that.”  
  
Steve smiled, ready to repeat the same three words he’d been saying for a month.  
  
“Captain America wears a helmet,” Bucky finished, grinning mischievously at Steve.   
  
Steve gave Bucky a withering look. Bucky laughed.   
  
\--  
  
There was a blonde woman standing outside the room Steve and Bucky had been pointed to. She was peering down at her phone, deep in concentration. Steve swallowed nervously, and Bucky gripped his hand tightly, once.   
  
He lifted his head. “Sharon?” He called out, and the woman looked up, and smiled immediately.   
  
“Captain Rogers! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” She said, offering her right hand for Steve to shake. It meant that Steve didn’t have to drop Bucky’s, and the fact that she had picked up on that made Steve like her greatly. He shook her hand, and was impressed by how strong it was.  
  
“Just Steve, please,” he said, and she smiled warmly.   
  
“Of course. And you must be Sergeant Barnes?” She asked Bucky.   
  
“Bucky,” he corrected, and her smile grew.   
  
“Nice to meet you, too.” She looked behind her, to the closed door. “I’ve been in, she seems good today.”   
  
Steve’s face fell, and he felt a weird guilt.   
  
Sharon patted his shoulder. “Don’t be sad. She’ll yell at you,” she said, and Steve shocked himself by laughing.  
  
“She would, wouldn’t she?”   
  
Sharon nodded seriously. “She always tells me and my cousins that we are not to pity her, or to be weepy around her, or to baby her in anyway, damn it.”   
  
Steve nodded back, smiling. That was Peggy all over.   
  
Sharon’s look did turn a little serious, then. “But, be prepared, if she does...well. If her mood turns.”   
  
“Will she forget who I am?” Steve asked, feeling that worry from earlier return.  
  
“I don’t know,” Sharon said, honestly. “But she won’t...be herself.”  
  
“All right,” Steve said. He wasn’t sure how else he was supposed to react.   
  
“Okay. Ready?” Sharon said, putting one hand on the door handle.   
  
Steve straightened his shoulders, taking in a steadying breath. Bucky squeezed his hand. “Yeah.”   
  
Sharon opened the door, and went inside. “Hey, aunt Peg,” she said softly.   
  
Bucky kissed Steve’s cheek. “Go on. I’m right behind you.”   
  
Steve kissed him properly, taking strength from him, and then let his hand go, and entered the room.   
  
Sharon was bending over the bed in the middle of the room, and in it was an old woman, with sharp brown eyes, and perfectly curled grey hair.   
  
“Look who’s here, Peg,” Sharon was saying, and smiled up at Steve.   
  
Peggy turned to look at him, and he smiled softly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “Hey Peggy.”   
  
“Steve?” She said, her voice weak, shocked.   
  
“Yeah, Peg,” he replied, stepping closer to her.   
  
Then Peggy’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve couldn’t help but let his fall. “It’s been so long!”  
  
“I know, Peg. I’m sorry,” Steve said, taking her hand. She gripped it as hard as she could, though there were tremours running through it.   
  
“Stork Club. 8 o’clock,” she said, and she even sounded angry, a familiar teasing glint appeared in her eyes. That startled a laugh out of Steve.  
  
“Cut me some slack, Peg. I’m only seventy years late,” he said.   
  
Peggy’s laugh was warm, and she smiled so wonderfully at him.  
  
\--  
  
“I’m surprised you’re not wearing that lipstick. You seemed to always have it on,” Steve said, sitting next to Peggy. Sharon had joined Bucky in leaning against the door.   
  
“Sharon never brings me the right shade,” Peggy said, accusingly, pointing at Sharon.   
  
Bucky laughed. “You’re in trouble,” he stage-whispered to Sharon.   
  
“She’s picky,” Sharon said airily.   
  
Peggy tapped Steve’s hand. “I heard about what you did. On the internet.”   
  
Steve tensed slightly, and Bucky jolted forward, meaning to go to him, but stayed back. This was Steve’s moment.   
  
“It was very brave. A lot of people were upset,” Peggy said.   
  
“When have I ever cared what bullies think, Peg?” Steve said, that tension gone. Had he been worried Peggy would judge him?   
  
Bucky couldn’t blame him, really. Bucky had thought the same thing about Steve, briefly.   
  
“That’s what I said! I said, Steve wouldn’t give a damn about what they said, and he’d still go out and fight the same as ever.”   
  
Steve ducked his head, and Bucky knew he was trying not to cry again. It hurt, not going over and comforting him, but he knew he had to wait. Patience. He could do that, for Steve and Peggy.   
  
“You know, I missed my chance,” Peggy said, and Steve’s head shot up at the same time Bucky’s did.   
  
“What chance, Peg?” Steve asked.   
  
“To be brave. Like you,” she said, her fingers squeezing Steve’s hand delicately. “I loved Daniel. I always will. But there was a time, I could’ve dared.”  
  
“What was her name, Peg?” Steve asked, gently.   
  
Peggy’s eyes lit up, and Bucky’s heart broke for her. “Angie. Angie Martinelli. She was lively, Steve. Called me ‘English’. She was a good friend.”   
  
Steve rubbed her hand with his left. “I’m sorry you never got the chance.”   
  
Peggy smiled, a little sadly. “Me too. But I still had her in my life, and maybe that was enough.” She patted Steve’s hand. “Is he nice? Your boy?”   
  
“The nicest,” Steve said, and looked back at Bucky. “Come here, Buck.”  
  
“Oh! That’s him?” Peggy said, as Bucky walked over.   
  
“Hey,” Bucky said, standing next to Steve, smiling as Peggy gave him a very stern once-over.   
  
“He’s very pretty, Steve,” she said, approvingly. Bucky laughed.   
  
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” Steve grinned. Bucky nudged him.   
  
“But it’s not always how pretty they are,” Peggy said, tapping Steve’s hand again.   
  
Steve looked at Bucky, and Bucky’s heart clenched to see the love in his eyes. “Yeah. There’s always something below the surface.”   
  
Peggy slipped her hand from Steve’s to hold Bucky’s. “I’m Director Margaret Carter. Peggy. It’s very good to meet you,” she said, squeezing his hand.   
  
“Sergeant James Barnes. Bucky. And it’s wonderful to meet you,” Bucky replied.   
  
“I hope you take him dancing,” Peggy said to Steve. “He looks like a wonderful dancer.”   
  
“I still owe you a dance, Peg,” Steve said, and Peggy’s other hand held his.   
  
“My dancing days are over, Steve. But you’ve got so many left. Don’t live in your regrets,” she said. She squeezed both their hands, and Bucky squeezed gently back. “And come by, when you can. It’s good to see a familiar face.”   
  
“What, I’m not good enough for you?” Sharon said from the door, and Bucky laughed with Steve and Peggy, feeling warmth, and affection.   
  
\--  
  
They got back to the hotel later that night, having gone out with Sharon for dinner. Sharon had inherited much of Peggy’s sharp mind, and it was a delight to talk to her. She also had compassion and empathy enough for ten of them, and seemed to pick up then the conversation was getting harder for Steve, and would subtly change the subject.   
  
They had exchanged numbers, Sharon promising to keep him up to date on how Peggy was going, and Steve had left feeling lighter than when he arrived.  
  
As soon as they were back in the room, Bucky dropped Steve’s hand, yawned, and tugged his shirt off, grabbing the collar behind his neck, pulling it off in one move. Steve tried not to get emotional about how much that showed Bucky’s trust in him, and failed completely. Bucky barely made it another step towards his bag, before Steve wrapped himself around him.   
  
“Hey,” Bucky said, leaning into Steve. His hand rested on top of Steve’s, thumb rubbing circles into his wrist.   
  
“You’re incredible,” Steve said, and felt Bucky’s laugh.   
  
“I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary, Steve,” he said, leaning his head back onto Steve’s shoulder so he could press a kiss to Steve’s jaw.   
  
“Not out of the ordinary,” Steve scoffed. “The fact you would consider anything you do or are ordinary is an insult.”   
  
“I think Nat was right. Biased, both of us.”   
  
“Maybe. We make it work,” Steve said, tightening his hold on Bucky.   
  
“Do we now? I’d like to see some evidence of that,” Bucky said, his hand stroking further up Steve’s arm.   
  
Steve could pick up on that cue.   
  
\--  
  
Bucky woke up, hours later, because Steve was shaking against him.   
  
“Steve? Steve, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked gently, touching Steve’s shoulder. His skin was hot to the touch, always was, but there was a sheen of sweat that hadn’t been there once they’d gone to sleep.   
  
Steve tugged Bucky closer. “Cold,” he said.   
  
Bucky frowned. It was pretty far into November, but it wasn’t that cold yet. The room felt warm enough, was it possible that Steve had a fever? Could he even get sick?   
  
Bucky lay the back of his hand against Steve’s head, and felt the same all over warmth, and then he remembered. The ice.   
  
_I can’t get warm enough._  
  
“I’ll be right back,” he said, gently pulling himself out of Steve’s grip. He tightened his hands, but let Bucky go, and Bucky was quick to cross the room to the thermostat, turn it up, and grab a sweater from Steve’s bag. He went back to the bed, and coaxed Steve into sitting up and putting the sweater on.  
  
He then lay them both back down, pulled the covers as tightly over them as possible, and tucked Steve into his chest, his hand in his hair. Steve pressed as close as he could, nose in the hollow of Bucky’s neck.   
  
“Sorry,” he whispered.  
  
“Don’t be. Thank you for waking me up," Bucky replied, kissing his forehead.   
  
Steve shifted against his chest, and Bucky felt a huff of breath against his neck.   
  
He stroked Steve’s hair until he fell back asleep, the shaking subsiding just enough that Bucky could too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god. Three chapters to go.  
> Where does the time go???
> 
> follow me on twitter (teenytabris) for a sneak peek of chap 21! :D


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed the chapter count went up. That is because the last two chapters were going to end up being very long, and that made my brain stress out, and as such I didn't write for like, the last two weeks. Since making the decision to break them up, brain has allowed me to jump back in, and as such, chapters will be going up for the next two weeks! 
> 
> July 22nd will be the last chapter for this story, and I can't wait to hear what you guys think of it. In the meantime, enjoy this one! <3

**Becca** : bucky holy shit look at this:  
_Becca has sent a picture message_  
**Me** : omg that is the funniest thing ive ever seen  
**Becca** : i no I laughed so hard talia came to make sure i hadnt died  
**Me** : can u pls order it? i need it for reasons  
**Becca** : buck u fucky order it urself  
**Me** : steve will see it b4 i can surprise him pls  
**Becca** : ...god ur lucky i hav a generous soul  
**Me** : i luv u. ur my fave   
**Becca** : ur disgusting  
**Becca** : neva talk 2 me again  
**Becca** : but also take a photo in it for blackmail purposes  
  
\--  
  
Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky as they headed into the living space of the Tower. “So,” he started.  
  
“So?” Bucky parroted, leaning into him. Steve pressed his face into his hair grinning. “No, come on, you were saying something,” Bucky said, lightly smacking Steve’s chest.   
  
“Right, right,” Steve said, nodding seriously, beaming at Bucky. How is it that everything he did was so goddamn endearing? Every time Steve thought he was going to stop being amazed by everything Bucky did, however small, his feelings rushed to dispute that. Steve did not mind it for a second, distracting as it was. “Stark’s got this event this weekend. He’s invited the whole team to come along. Charity thing.”   
  
“Uh huh?” Bucky said, turning out of Steve’s grip to flop onto the couch, taking Steve’s hand to pull him down with him.   
  
“I was wondering if you’d be my date,” Steve asked, threading their fingers together.   
  
Bucky’s eyebrows raised in shock, and Steve ignored the slight panic he felt that maybe that was too much to ask of him, and chose to wait for Bucky’s words instead.   
  
“You want me to go to a Stark Foundation event,” Bucky said, tone perfectly flat.   
  
Steve let out a big breath, sighing with it. “Yeah, I know. It’s unfair, really. Whatever he’s raising money for will be totally forgotten, the second you walk in.”  
  
Bucky laughed, sharp and sudden, and rolled his eyes. He grabbed Steve’s face and kissed him. Steve grinned the whole way through it.   
  
“How you were ever single, ever, in your life, is beyond me,” Bucky said, accusingly.   
  
Steve traced a line down Bucky’s cheek. “Maybe I was waiting for you, babydoll,” he said, laying the charm on thick.   
  
“Uh, this? This is a public space. As in, all can use? As in, please stop dry-humping on my furniture,” Tony’s voice said.   
  
“Tony!” Steve shouted over to him, the man himself behind the counter, pouring himself a coffee. Tony raised an eyebrow at Steve, and raised his mug.  
  
“You remember my name! Glad to hear dementia hasn’t kicked in yet, Rogers,” he said drily.  
  
“Bucky’s coming on Saturday!” Steve announced.   
  
Tony nodded, barely containing a smile. Steve grinned. “Well, if you mean the event, it’s formal!” Tony shouted the last thing in Bucky’s direction. Bucky gave him a thumb’s up in return. “If you meant anything else, I’m sure I didn’t need to know that.”   
  
Bucky groaned, Steve winced, and Tony winked at them. “Behave, reprobates!” He called, and headed back to his lab.   
  
“Phrasing, Steve,” Bucky said, leaning into Steve’s chest.   
  
“Yeah. I shouldn’t be so specific about the day, should I? It’s more like the time of day,” Steve mused, and got another smack in response.   
  
\--  
  
**Becca:** p l e a s e. p h o t o   
**Becca** : my children are starving  
**Me** : hang on, thistle’s just getting the good light  
**Becca** : t h i s t l e. h u r r y  
**Me** : okay. what do u think?  
_You have sent a picture message._  
**Becca** : ...  
**Becca** : Bucky. Oh My God.  
**Me** : god its too much isnt it  
**Becca** : NOPE. NO. YOU LOOK LIKE A WHOLE ASS SNACK  
**Me** : so its all right?  
**Becca** : black shirt was the best idea. tell elise shes a genius  
  
\--  
  
Bucky smoothed down the lapels of his suit for the fiftieth time.   
  
_Stop. It’s perfect. You look perfect_ , Thistle signed, slapping his hand away when she was done.   
  
“I know, I know. I just haven’t worn a suit that wasn’t military dress...ever,” Bucky griped.  
  
_You look lovely. Suit’s beautiful, Elise did a fantastic job with your hair. What’s the part that’s bothering you?_   
  
“Imposter syndrome?” Bucky shrugged.   
  
Thistle squeezed his shoulders, and gave him a stern look. Bucky sighed, and nodded.   
  
“I know. Bad brain.”  
  
_Soldier brain. We get it too_ , Thistle signed.  
  
“He buzzed! He buzzed! He’s downstairs!” Elise said, tearing into the room, grinning ear to ear. She grabbed her wife and spun her around, to sign the same at her. Thistle’s eyes lit up, and she squeezed Bucky’s right shoulder. Bucky took a steadying breath, and fought the urge to fix his lapel again.   
  
“Awww. It’s like sending our son off to prom, my love,” Elise said, pressing her hands to her heart after signing to Thistle.   
  
_We are like proud mothers, it’s true_ , Thistle agreed.  
  
“And I hate you both,” Bucky said, and pulled Thistle in for a hug, Elise joining in on the other side.   
  
_Go get him, tiger_ , Thistle signed once they pulled apart, and Bucky grinned at her.   
  
The de le Serre’s walked him to their door, Elise darting in front to open it for him.   
  
Steve was waiting on the bottom step, face turned away from the door. He was in a deep blue suit, made of something velvety looking. Bucky wanted to run his hands through it, though that wasn’t exactly a new impulse. What was new, was the incredible way the suit fit, the way it made Steve look like something out of a fashion magazine, rather than a fitness one.   
  
God, he was making terrible jokes in his head to try and tamp down the way he wouldn’t mind dragging him into the alley way between the de le Serre’s brownstone and the next door’s one.   
  
Steve turned around, then, and he smiled at Bucky-  
  
And then his jaw dropped. Bucky tried very hard not to be smug about that.   
  
“Buck-” Steve managed. Bucky grinned at him.   
  
“You don’t think it’s a bit much?” The suit jacket and pants were a deep red, and maybe he was pushing it with the red theme, nearly six months into their relationship, but it had always been his colour. His shirt was black, and even though the left sleeve was rolled up, Bucky thought it didn’t ruin the overall effect.   
  
Steve seemed to agree with that, anyway.   
  
“God, no,” Steve said with feeling, mounting the steps to stand in front of Bucky. He stayed on the step below him, Bucky noted, and they were the same height.   
  
Bucky felt a hand tap his shoulder, and he broke eye contact with Steve to look behind him.   
  
_You guys need anything? Snacks? A condom?_ Thistle signed.   
  
“Okay, okay, we’re going,” Bucky said, groaning as he signed at her, aggressively.   
  
She laughed, Elise waggling her eyebrows at Bucky and Steve.   
  
Steve took Bucky’s hand, and lead him down the stairs, Bucky flipping his friends off before he did.   
  
\--  
  
**Avengers News @avengersnews**  
_captainamericaarrives.jpg_  
Captain America and boyfriend James Barnes arrive at the Stark Foundation fundraiser.  
  
**say love @sapphosparrow**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
...softly, with feeling: holy shit  
  
**frieda @kahlol**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
Did they co-ordinate colours.............holy fuck  
  
**ellen MET STEVE ROGERS JUNE18TH @dorkknight**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
i love my dads??????  
  
**& && @mindingbusiness**  
_replying to @avengersnews_  
_sobbing.gif_  
they’RE SO BEAUTIFUL  
  
\--  
  
“Good evening, everyone! I’ll keep this brief, god knows we all would rather be getting into the champagne. Four years ago, I was forced to realise a very inconvenient truth: that the company I had been running, the company my father began, had become an ally to the very people we were trying to stop. It was then, what feels like a life time ago, that I realised that I had become the Merchant of Death that I had taken to be a slur against my name, the name of my company. Four years ago, I put a stop to weapons manufacturing, and turned to focus on bigger, better things. Some of those were inventions. Some of those were uplifting the people who had the knowledge and the drive to do better than me. One very important thing, was I stepped down. Pepper Potts has done more as CEO of Stark Industries in two years, than I could achieve in a lifetime.   
  
But the most important thing, the real reason we’re here tonight, is to help heal the hurts. Undo the damage that was caused. And yes, I will stand here and shoulder most of the blame. But I need your help. Please, dig deep tonight, and help this worthy cause. Every dollar donated tonight, will be matched by me.   
  
Thank you, everyone, for attending. Enjoy the open bar, and the roving entertainment, sometimes known as the Avengers.”  
  
\--  
  
Bucky was incredibly over his head.   
  
A woman, her husband, and three hangers-on were talking, and maybe they meant to be talking with him, but it felt a lot more like at him. They seemed to be satisfied when he nodded at whatever they were saying, and made the appropriate faces (picked from the reactions of the people around them).  
  
And then, “It was so brave, the both of you, coming out like that,” one of them said.   
  
Bucky smiled easily, holding in a grimace. “I’ve actually been out for a very long time,” he said.   
  
“Yes, but not in the public eye like this. It’s quite the statement,” another one said.   
  
“I can assure you, we never meant to make a statement. Well, I didn’t. Everything Steve does seems to be him taking a stand for something,” Bucky joked, and felt a bit of relief when the group laughed pleasantly around him.   
  
“There’s also that you’re a war veteran,” the woman’s husband said, and he had this weirdly patronising tone. Bucky did not sigh, as much as he wanted to, and braced himself for the next words. “Wounded in the line of duty. They really don’t do enough for disabled people, do they?”  
  
Well. That was slightly nicer than usual.   
  
“No, but neither does any industry. There needs be an overhaul of public opinion and professional help,” another man said.   
  
Much nicer than usual.   
  
Bucky then felt a hand grip his elbow, and turned to see Nat smiling politely at the group. “I’m so sorry to steal him away, but I’m afraid I must,” she simpered at the group, and Bucky tried not to laugh.   
  
“Of course! Please, Mr Barnes-” the woman began.  
  
“Sergeant Barnes, Mrs Liddel,” Nat interrupted, sweetly.   
  
“Of course! I’m so sorry, Sergeant. It was lovely to speak with you,” Mrs Liddel said without missing a beat. Bucky smiled, and let Nat lead him away.  
  
“Thought I’d come rescue you, I saw the word ‘disabled’ coming out of Harry’s mouth,” Nat said quietly, smirking and tucking her hand into Bucky’s elbow.   
  
“It was actually a lot more respectful than usual, which was a shock,” Bucky replied.   
  
“Really? A shock. Harry’s foot is usually shoved so far down his throat, it’s a wonder he remembers what champagne tastes like.”  
  
“Vivid image.”  
  
“Tony doesn’t have a monopoly on dramatics,” Nat said, waving an airy hand. Bucky laughed.   
  
They stopped at a small table, relatively clear of empty glasses, and Nat grabbed two flutes of sparkling from a passing waiter. “You usually come to these?” Bucky asked, taking a sip.   
  
Nat pursed her lips, and gave him a searching look. She’d done this to Bucky a number of times, even as he started coming to the Tower more often, and they had even spent time just the two of them talking. The only reason Bucky would hesitate to call her a friend, is that if she didn’t feel the same way, he wouldn’t want to put her on the spot.   
  
“Not as myself,” she said finally, and Bucky supposed she found whatever in him she had been looking for.   
  
“I’d rather have you as yourself. I can hide behind you when yet another person wants to ask me about Steve, being gay, or only having one arm,” he replied, sipping at his glass, grinning at Nat when she laughed.   
  
“Well, you’re gonna have to crouch down pretty far,” she said drily. “You might not be super soldier tall, but you’ve definitely got at least a foot on me.”   
  
“How did they get so much threat in so small a body?” Bucky said, leaning on the table.   
  
Nat gave him a pleased half-smile, and maybe he was seeing things, but for a moment, her green eyes went blank. Bucky blinked, at it was gone. “Small people naturally have this much threat. Just ask Steve, he reckons getting to six-foot-humongous chilled him out.”  
  
“Being able to win literally every fight would chill me out too,” Clint agreed, slinging an arm around Nat’s waist as he got to the table. Bucky smiled as Nat very slightly leaned into it.   
  
“And yet, he still has so little chill,” Bucky said, and his smile widened when Nat and Clint laughed.   
  
When Steve finally managed to find them, an hour and a half later, they’d delved into childhood stories. Well, Bucky and Clint had. Nat was saying a great many cryptic things, and Bucky was almost certain all of the things she was referring to were lies.   
  
“She really called you bunny?” Clint said, half laughing.   
  
“What’re you talking about?” Steve asked, wrapping an arm around Bucky and kissing his temple. Bucky closed his eyes and leaned into it.   
  
“Childhood nicknames,” Bucky said, dropping his glass onto the table so he could get his arm under Steve’s jacket.   
  
Steve laughed. “Yeah, that is what his mum called him,” he confirmed for Clint.   
  
“Bunny? Really?” Clint seemed to be insulted at that name. “Is it because it sounds like Bucky?”  
  
“The circumstances are actually a lot more embarrassing,” Bucky said.   
  
“There was a thing with you and animal nicknames. Your dad had one for you too,” Steve said, thoughtfully.   
  
Bucky nudged him with his hip. “You remember how to pronounce it?”   
  
Steve frowned, concentrating. “Mo-tan-el?” He tried. Bucky kissed his cheek, beaming.   
  
“ _Motănel_. You nearly had it.”  
  
“Little tomcat?” Nat asked. Bucky looked over to her, eyes narrowing curiously, even as he smiled a little.   
  
“You can speak Romanian?” He asked.  
  
“You’re Romanian?” She shot back.   
  
“Half. Dad’s side.”   
  
“Huh.” Nat leaned back into Clint, fingers on one hand drumming on the table.  
  
“You grew up there?” Clint asked, resting his chin on Nat’s head.   
  
Bucky shook his head. “Grew up right here in New York. Mum and Dad wanted us to respect our background though. Learnt a lot about the history, learnt the language. Becca and I used to be pretty fluent. We have been looking into online courses, jump starting it again.”   
  
“Why’d you stop?” Clint asked, and Nat patted his arm, and once she had his attention, gave him a look.   
  
Steve’s arm tightened around Bucky.   
  
“Circumstances changed,” Bucky said simply.   
  
Nat reached over and squeezed Steve’s elbow. “Did I see you escape Senator Eldrich? Was he trying to debate Catholicism with you again?” Her subject change was swift and abrupt, but Bucky appreciated it all the same.   
  
Steve groaned. “Yes, god, he is one of the many people who believed I was a god-fearing, Republican voting, All-American man.”  
  
“He should hear the amount you blaspheme, that should be enough to convince him,” Bucky commented.   
  
“We all blaspheme plenty,” Clint said into his glass. “Apparently, not that big of a sin.”   
  
“Well, combined with congress out of wedlock,” Bucky said idly.  
  
“Bucky,” Steve groaned, dropping his head to Bucky’s shoulder, as Bucky tried very hard not to laugh out loud.   
  
“What, Tony's allowed to do it, but I'm not?”  
  
“Bucky,” Steve said helplessly, again.  
  
Nat reached across to clink her glass to Bucky’s. “You are truly doing the Lord’s work, Bucky,” she said with a wink, eliciting another pained groan from Steve.   
  
\--  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
Very pleased to announce that tonight raised $2.3 million for the rebuild efforts!  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
As per my promise, I will be matching each dollar, bringing the total to $4.6 million.  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
Cannot thank all of the donors more, and I hope to see them all at the next one.   
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
And yes, every one else, Steve and Bucky were very cute, gave us all cavities-  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
and Steve managed not to challenge anyone to fisticuffs. So proud.   
  
\--  
  
Steve had been halfway through asking Bucky if he wanted a drink, as they walked into his floor of the Tower, when Bucky wrapped his hand around Steve’s neck, and physically pulled him against him, walking back until Steve was crowding him against the wall.   
  
“You look incredible in that suit,” Bucky said, low, eyes dark and hooded. Steve could feel the panting of his breath on his lips.   
  
“Not nearly as much as you do in yours. Red has never looked so fucking good,” Steve said, pressing his forehead to the side of Bucky’s face, letting his breath ghost across Bucky’s neck, while his hands came up to cradle his hips.   
  
“I was worried that I was taking the red theme a little far,” Bucky said, mostly on a gasp. He pulled Steve even closer, their bodies flush against each other.   
  
Steve smiled, his lips brushing along Bucky’s jaw. “If you must wear clothes, I would like you in red,” he murmured, and shivered at Bucky’s low noise. He brushed his lips along Bucky’s neck, not quite kissing, and Bucky tilted his head back, mouth dropping open. His hand tightened against Steve’s neck. “I get the feeling I’m going to need to relocate us in a moment,” Steve laughed.   
  
“Or you could fuck me against this wall?” Bucky’s voice was breathless, and Steve’s lungs felt much the same way.   
  
Steve pulled back to stare at his boyfriend, in shock (and maybe a little bit interested. Or a lot interested). Bucky’s eyes were blown dark, and somehow his lips were already red, despite them being thoroughly not-kissed. “Against the wall?” he repeated.   
  
Bucky shrugged, eyes not really leaving Steve’s mouth. “You’re supposed to have super strength. You don’t think you could hold me up that long, Steve?”   
  
Steve’s mouth widened in a lazy grin. “Well. Maybe it bears some experimentation?”   
  
He hoisted Bucky up, pressing his back against the wall, Bucky wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist, Steve’s hands under his thighs. It took very little effort for Steve to arrange him into the exact right position, Bucky groaning, head thrown back, once he was. “God,” he moaned.   
  
Steve pondered something for a moment, with the only sensible, sane part of his brain left, and then pulled Bucky up a little further, then pressed their hips together, and moved his hands from Bucky’s legs, to brace on either side of his head, leaving Bucky suspended only around his hips and waist.   
  
Bucky only registered this a few moments later, and he looked Steve directly in the eyes, something very steely about the fire in them. “Are you holding me up only by your hips right now?”   
  
Steve winked.   
  
Bucky took in a steadying breath, and then fixed his gaze on Steve. “You should probably get this suit off me. As soon as possible.”   
  
Steve dropped him back to his feet, agreeing with him by slipping the jacket off.   
  
Bucky stopped him before he could take his own off. “Leave it on,” he said, commanding. His voice held a deep note of _want_.   
  
Steve’s grin was very smug. He still didn’t really know how Bucky had ever forgiven him, or how he had deserved him in the first place, but he would be damned if he wasn’t thrilled, thankful, and incredibly aroused.   
  
“All right, Sarge.” He lifted Bucky back up.   
  
\--  
  
The suit jacket lasted ten minutes before Bucky tore a hole in the back.  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : Hey, Nat. That voucher, still valid?  
 **Natasha R** : Yeah, had it open-ended for when you guys wanted to use it. You guys thinking of heading up?  
**Me** : Yeah, this weekend. I don’t wanna chance waiting for anything further ahead.   
**Natasha R** : I can cover for you. No Avengers or SHIELD emergencies.  
**Me** : I’m still needed. Bucky understands that.  
**Natasha R** : Sure he does.   
**Me** : You would still tell me if I was needed?  
**Natasha R** : Sure I would.   
  
\--  
  
**Me** : If I was to go away this weekend, but you needed me, you would get in contact?  
**Tony S** : Nope.   
**Me** : Tony.  
**Tony S** : America works fast, but Russia works faster.   
**Me** : Goddamn it, Nat.  
  
\--  
  
**Natasha R** : You love me, really. After all, I am your favourite.  
**Me** : Goddamn it, Bucky!  
  
\--  
  
“Bucky.”   
  
“Mmmph?” It was warm, and quiet. He couldn’t even hear the traffic. Maybe because he was hundreds of miles in the air.  
  
Oooooh, don’t think too hard about that.  
  
“Buck, come on. Up. Up up up,” Steve’s voice was saying, accompanied by soft pokes to his shoulder.   
  
“Mmm. Early,” Bucky whined, pulling the sheet back over his head.   
  
“Yes, because you asked to be woken up at a normal time. 8 is a normal time.” Steve sounded like he was laughing at him. “We’ve gotta stop in at the hospital and see Becca before we head up.”  
  
“Uuuuggghhh,” Bucky groaned, but did pull the sheet back down, blinking sleep-blurred eyes until Steve came into focus.   
  
He was smiling. “There you are. Coffee?”   
  
Bucky reached out his hand, making grabby motions, but Steve did not hand him a mug, Steve took his hand, and pulled him upright. Bucky was not against being manhandled a bit (god, he did not mind one bit), but being woken up and then forced to sit up, that was criminal. He glared, sleepily, at Steve.   
  
Steve laughed again. “You are so terrible in the mornings,” he said fondly, kissing Bucky’s forehead, and then, finally, pressed a mug of black coffee into his hands. “I don’t usually get to see this part.”   
  
“Because you wake up at the ass-crack to burn of the insane amount of energy you have. Because you’re some kind of overgrown golden retriever,” Bucky said, grumpily, mostly into his coffee.   
  
Steve was entirely unbothered, the ass. “We’re all packed. Tony’s loaned me a car, I thought it’d be better than trying to load up the bike.”   
  
Bucky grunted his assent, and watched with interest as Steve bent down to pick up said bags. “Did you always have that good of an ass, or was that the serum too?”   
  
Steve looked over his shoulder, smiling wickedly. “Serum only enhanced what was already there, sugar,” he drawled, standing up and arching his back.   
  
“Stop that, or we’re going to be back in bed for another reason,” Bucky said, grinning.   
  
“There we go, I knew you would cheer up after a coffee,” Steve said, smiling fondly as he walked back over to the bed.  
  
“Coffee, hot boyfriend, I’d have to smile at something, eventually,” Bucky replied, and happily reached up to meet Steve as he leaned down, the kiss chaste and sweet.   
  
Steve pulled away, came back for one more, and then pulled away properly, eyes closed like he was trying to brand the memory into his mind. Bucky couldn’t help the happy shiver. “Okay. I’m going to go put these in the car. You finish that coffee, have a shower, get dressed, and meet me downstairs,” Steve said, rattling off orders with a beaming smile.   
  
Bucky saluted with the mug. “Yes, sir,” he said, tilting his head, and smiling with just the left corner of his mouth.   
  
He felt very smug when Steve’s eyes darkened slightly. “Bucky Barnes,” he said, warningly and lovingly.   
  
“I love you, too,” Bucky said, leaning back against the headboard.   
  
Steve softened, giving Bucky the biggest heart-eyes Bucky had seen yet, and Bucky was about ready to melt himself.   
  
Bucky waved him off. “Go. Sooner you leave, sooner I’ll follow,” he said, pretending annoyance.   
  
Steve grinned, but did as he was told. For once.   
  
Bucky drank his coffee quickly, ignoring the burn. God. If they were still like this after 6 months, what the hell would the one year mark be like?  
  
\--  
  
Becca immediately grabbed a package and thrust it into Bucky’s arms, the second he was close enough. “This is the thing!” she exclaimed, eyes full of mirth. Steve frowned as Bucky peeked into it, angling it away from Steve.   
  
“Holy shit, it’s even funnier in person,” Bucky said, laughing with his sister.   
  
“God, I know, I swear people are the stupidest. But the most brilliant too.”   
  
“What is it?” Steve asked, frowning at the siblings. They turned twin mischievous grins on him.   
  
“You’ll see,” Bucky said, in _that_ tone of voice. The one that immediately sent warmth to the tips of Steve’s fingers.  
  
“Ugh, I knew that’s what you were gonna use it for,” Becca said disgustedly, kicking out at her brother.   
  
“That’s on you, kid,” Bucky teased.  
  
“Steve, please talk about literally anything else until Bucky shuts up and leaves,” Becca said, glaring at Bucky.   
  
Steve laughed. “I really don’t know whose side I should take here?”  
  
“Have we told you about the hike we’re gonna do?” Bucky asked Becca, making the choice for him, and Steve laughed again.   
  
“You’re gonna go on a hike.” Becca’s tone was the epitome of monotone disbelief.   
  
“Yeah, there’s this old mansion, burnt down in 1938, right in the middle of forest. I saw some pictures, and I really can’t wait to see it in person,” Steve said, dropping into his usual chair, resting his arms on the edge of Becca’s bed.   
  
“Yeah, but, Bucky? On a hike?”   
  
“I exercise!”  
  
“Yeah, on a treadmill. You’re really gonna go Man vs. Wild?”   
  
“It’s a hike on a trail, Becs.”  
  
“Oh, so a cheating hike.”  
  
“It’s still a hike!”  
  
Steve grinned, and rested his chin on his crossed arms.   
  
\--  
  
Bucky twisted around in the passenger seat, so he could reach over the gear stick to take Steve’s hand. Steve entwined their fingers.   
  
“Ready?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to the pad of Bucky’s forefinger.   
  
“Take me away, Rogers,” Bucky said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: adorable cabin in the woods mishaps approaching.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the scenes in this chapter are things I've had in my head since I started writing it so I can't wait to hear what you guys think.
> 
> Also! Head back to chapter 13 to see some AMAZING art by the incredible [Em](https://twitter.com/emdibuja). She really brought that statue to life, and I'm a little obsessed.

Cold Spring was a small, 19th century town, quaint and quiet. Bucky admired it as Steve drove through, following the tinny voice of the GPS.   
  
“We’re not staying in town?” He asked, as Steve took took the main road out.   
  
“No, Nat said she wanted to give us some privacy,” he said, only half paying attention.   
  
Bucky laughed. “Well, she knew something before we did, then.”   
  
Steve looked over to him, and winked. “Yeah, well. I learned how to keep quiet,” he teased. Bucky flipped him off, grinning.   
  
The last part of the drive was through some forest, or woodland, or whatever word was appropriate for deep green, dappled shadows, and weak December sunlight straining through canopies of leaves. Bucky was very content to let the silence lie, and stare out the window. Maybe nature did have some good points, he relented to himself, grumbling slightly. He was a city boy, born and bred, but he could see the appeal.   
  
He definitely saw the appeal of the gorgeous house Steve pulled up at. “Oh, wow,” he breathed.   
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I can agree with that,” Steve said, just as quietly.   
  
The house was all wood, because of course it was, middle of the forest and all, but it was a blend of traditional and modern design that blended into the forest around them. A sloping wooden staircase led up to a porch that bordered a hexagon-shaped room, with huge glass windows set into them.   
  
“Well. We knew Nat had good taste,” Bucky said, climbing out of the SUV Tony had loaned them.   
  
“She is very close with Barton. That might be a strike against that theory,” Steve said, but Bucky could hear the laugh. He was rounding the car to get their bags, and Bucky was happy enough to lean against the closed car door and admire the house.  
  
“Okay, but she is also friends with us. I think we cancel out the Barton energy,” Bucky argued, feeling the need to defend the absent Nat, even though he could probably just text her. If she hadn’t bugged him or Steve, somehow.   
  
He would not put it past her.   
  
“Keys are in my pocket,” Steve said, walking up beside Bucky with a bag in each hand.   
  
Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. “So give me a bag and get them yourself?”   
  
Steve just leaned his hip towards Bucky, and smiled brightly. Bucky laughed, and reached into Steve’s front pocket to pull the keys out.  
  
“You know, just asking me to grope you is also fine,” he teased.   
  
Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink, but he had a very pleased smile on his face. “I think finding ways to ask you indirectly is greatly more fun,” he said, nudging Bucky with a bag.   
  
Bucky gave him a look, and then walked up the stairs to the front door, Steve following behind. Once unlocked, they stepped through into the sun room/living room.   
  
“Oh wow,” Bucky repeated, turning on the spot to take in the sprawling entrance. He could see an open doorway off to one side, with a dining set in it, and against the living room wall was a staircase. All wood, but polished and strangely modern.   
  
“Come on, let’s see upstairs,” Steve said, leading the way. Bucky had no argument, and followed him up.  
  
The upper floor consisted of another sitting room, facing huge windows that looked out into the forest, and sprawling bedroom with a huge bed in the centre, positioned in front of yet another window that was more like a glass wall. “I think that bed is bigger than yours at the Tower,” Bucky said, a little in awe.   
  
“Yeah, I think Nat definitely saw something we hadn’t yet,” Steve agreed, a little cheekily. Bucky kicked his ankle lightly for that, and earned himself a chuckle.   
  
He swung the bags onto the bed, then checked the time on his watch. “It’s a little early for lunch, but we had breakfast pretty early. You hungry?”   
  
Bucky laughed, unzipping his suitcase. “No, but I know you’re starving and your body is seconds away from eating itself.”   
  
Steve ducked his head, abashedly. “Yeah, well. This needs constant attention,” he said, gesturing at his body.   
  
“Don’t refer to yourself like you’re a thing,” Bucky chided gently. He dropped the shirt he was unfolding to walk over to Steve and cup his face, going up on his toes to kiss him. Steve’s hands were a comforting weight on his hips.   
  
“Working on it,” he said, and Bucky smiled against his lips.   
  
“I know. I’m proud of you.”   
  
“I’ll go see what we have to eat?” Steve said, stepping back a little. Bucky laughed.   
  
“It’s a rental, babe. There won’t be anything. We’ll have to head back into town.”  
  
“Oh.” Steve frowned, then brightened. “Okay, unpacking, then we’ll venture out?”   
  
Bucky kissed him again. “This is disgustingly domestic.”  
  
Steve cupped his face, and pressed kisses to his checks and forehead. “I know, I love it.”   
  
Bucky groaned, but his grin was hard to contain.   
  
\--  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_buckycoldspring.jpg_  
We got a window seat and the light was really too perfect not to use.  
  
**. @barneshousedoor**  
_replying to @captainrogers_  
i didnt even see you take this. stalker.   
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @barneshousedoor_  
Testament to how good the coffee was?  
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @captainrogers, @barneshousedoor_  
Are you two sitting next to each other and talking over Twitter?  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_replying to @stark_  
_buckyontwitter.jpg_  
No.   
  
**. @barneshousedoor**  
_replying to @stark, @captainrogers_  
_steveontwitter.jpg_  
Definitely not.   
  
**Tony Stark @stark**  
_replying to @barneshousedoor, @captainrogers_  
Couple goals. Clearly.  
  
\--  
  
Once they got home, they quickly changed into something more ‘hike appropriate’, and then Bucky laced his and Steve’s fingers together, and they headed up to the start of the ‘Cornish Estate Trail’.   
  
“Should start being concrete once we get to the estate. The rest is a ‘gentle ascent’,” Bucky said, reading the webpage Steve had up on his phone.   
  
“Becca was right. Not much of a hike at all,” Steve said, with a grin, and Bucky glared at him.   
  
“Never admit my sister is right. The highest betrayal.”   
  
Steve laughed, and pocketed his phone.   
  
The trail was peaceful, the sun shining through the canopy of leaves, the greenery soothing. Steve may be a city boy at heart, but there was something restorative about nature. When you weren’t chasing Nazis through it. Or sleeping in muddy ditches.   
  
And it was especially good hand-in-hand with the man he loved, said man looking around at everything with a look of quiet amazement. Steve squeezed his hand, feeling something settle in his heart. He kissed Bucky’s temple, and Bucky smiled up at him.   
  
The silence was comfortable as they walked, Bucky occasionally dropping Steve’s hand to grab his water bottle, and he seemed content in way Steve was incredibly happy to see. The past year had been tumultuous, for them both, and to see Bucky at peace made Steve feel the same. They might even get to have a normal Christmas.   
  
“There!” Bucky said after some time, and there was the old driveway. They headed up it, and soon Steve gasped. Sprawling, crumbling ruins, but the shapes- yeah, he’d seen sketches of the house this used to be. Maybe not this one exactly, but he knew others like it.   
  
“Come on, I want to see inside,” he urged, pulling Bucky along. Bucky was laughing, but kept up, squeezing Steve’s hand encouragingly. They headed up the overgrown steps, and into what would’ve been a foyer, back before it was destroyed and the forest retook the space.   
  
“Is that...is that a fireplace?” Bucky asked, pointing up at what was definitely a fireplace, suspended on the chimney.   
  
Steve raised his eyebrows, smiling in surprise. “Well. I guess when the floor went, the bricks stayed,” he reasoned.   
  
“You gonna call that ‘art’ too?” Bucky teased, and Steve nudged him.   
  
They poked through the ruins, Steve easily loping between broken sections, holding out his hand to help Bucky across. He delighted in the blush that spread along Bucky’s cheeks when he did. He felt like some kind of dashing prince in a fairy tale, though Bucky would’ve been exactly the same.   
  
“This is, or was, a far too large room,” Bucky said, walking around the broken, nature-overridden room. While Steve had never been to a dance in an opulent house, he recognised the room for what it was.   
  
“Ball room. Used to be a staple of every sprawling mansion,” Steve said, turning slowly to take the whole thing in. “Would’ve been something back in the day. Almost wish I could’ve seen it.”   
  
“There are still ball rooms. Still opulent mansions from the 20’s. Bet you could get an invite to any party in them,” Bucky said, and Steve looked over to him, and saw the pleased grin. “Or you could turn me about this floor?”   
  
Steve laughed, a little embarrassed. “I don’t actually know how to dance.”   
  
Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, looking disbelieving. “Really? Not at all?”   
  
"Yeah, bad lungs. Couldn’t actually manage more than a few minutes of the jitterbug," Steve said with a grin.   
  
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yet you would fling yourself at every alley way fight you could into?”   
  
“Arnie had the same complaint.”  
  
“Arnie was a smart man.”   
  
“Yeah. Far too protective, though.”   
  
“I think, considering you had very little self-preservation, he was the exact right amount of protective,” Bucky said, walking over to Steve, shaking his head with a grin.   
  
“I resent that, despite how true it might be.” Steve held out his hand, and Bucky took it easily, gently pulling him into the centre of the room.   
  
“Considering what has happened, yeah. Yeah, it’s true,” Bucky said, but he didn’t have the haunted look he had back in September. He looked fondly exasperated, which thrilled through Steve. Bucky pulled him a little closer, and leaned into Steve. “I assume you’ll want to lead,” he teased.   
  
“You’ll have to show me how,” Steve replied, and Bucky’s eyes went soft. He rose up to press a kiss to Steve’s lips, which Steve happily returned.   
  
“Okay. Your right hand goes here,” Bucky said, pressing the hand into the small of his back. “When you want me to move in a direction, you gently push that way.” He demonstrated on Steve’s back. “Whatever step you do, I take the opposite one. So,” Bucky pulled Steve forward, and stepped back himself.   
  
Steve nodded. “I think I got it,” he said, taking Bucky’s hand again, but Bucky quickly let go.   
  
“Hang on, hang on. Two seconds,” Bucky said, taking out his phone and frantically going through it. Steve raised an eyebrow, grinning at the furrow in Bucky’s brow, not moving from their close position. Bucky smiled after a moment, pressing something, before stowing the phone in his pocket, speaker facing out.   
  
A soft, familiar melody started playing, and Steve laughed. “Mood music?” He asked, his grin impossibly fond, and he knew it.   
  
Bucky smiled, all softness and love, and joined their hands together.   
  
It wasn’t a particularly amazing dance, or incredibly technical. Steve did not throw Bucky into the air once, or spin him lightning fast.  
  
But they held each other close, their join hands resting on Steve’s heart, as they slowly turned about the abandoned, destroyed room. In his mind’s eye, Steve could imagine the room in its glory, shining and beautiful and opulent, but nothing as beautiful as the man in his arms.   
  
“I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmured to Bucky.   
  
Bucky looked up, wonder and a little sadness in his eyes. “I hope I live up to that,” he whispered, like his words would disrupt the peace they had made.   
  
Steve kissed Bucky’s forehead, trying to press into his mind just how much he already was.   
  
\--  
  
“I am not going antiquing.”  
  
“Bucky, how else am I going to find memories of home?”  
  
“You are not playing that card! We are not an elderly couple!”  
  
“Well. One half of us is.”  
  
“Oh my god.”   
  
“What? You all get to make jokes about it!”  
  
“You’re using it to try and make an argument for going antiquing!”  
  
“It’ll be fun!”  
  
“I am not going antiquing!”  
  
\--  
  
**Steve Rogers @captainrogers**  
_grumpybucky.jpg_  
He’s trying to act like he’s not enjoying himself.  
  
\--  
  
“It is a nice lamp,” Steve offered, and got a dirty look in response. He tried very hard not to laugh, but a soft chuckle did escape.   
  
Bucky laid the lamp in the back seat, and then slammed the door to get into the passenger seat. “You did not win because I found something. It was still an awful experience,” he declared.   
  
“Uh huh,” Steve said, reaching over to stroke Bucky’s neck. Bucky leaned into it, still glaring at him.   
  
The glare let up once they were back at the rental, Steve grabbing the supplies they bought for dinner. Cooking it led to an experience of what domestic life would be like when they actually moved in together, and Steve’s ribs ached from laughing as well as from the amount of times Bucky jabbed him with his elbow, trying to get him to move. Bucky was leaning against the counter, breathlessly laughing, and wiping tears out of his eyes.   
  
The meal wasn’t terrible, considering how many times they managed to distract each other with bickering and playful shoves. Steve did the dishes afterwards, old habit of keeping things as neat as possible (Sarah Rogers was a nurse, and she would be damned before her house was untidy), and then he and Bucky curled up on the couch, Steve idly flicking through television channels.   
  
It was shaping up to probably being a quiet night, when Bucky suddenly sat up. “Oh my god, I nearly forgot. I have a surprise for you,” he said, and he laughed a little, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Steve turned to look at him suspiciously.   
  
“Is that whatever Becca gave you this morning?” He asked, and Bucky nodded. He sprang to his feet, grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him upstairs, Steve totally lost as to what he was getting himself into. It was a weird field of something that would make Bucky laugh, would apparently require the bedroom, and something that he would be all right with Becca seeing. All in all, it was a weird Venn diagram that Steve could not decipher.   
  
“Okay, sit here,” Bucky directed, pushing Steve towards the bed. He went to his suitcase, rummaged through it, and grabbed the black plastic bag. “I will be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom.   
  
Steve frowned, mostly out of confusion, and leaned back on his elbows, happy to wait, as long as there was an answer coming.   
  
When it did come, Steve stared at Bucky for a solid twenty seconds, and then started laughing. “What the fuck is that?”   
  
“What? Don’t recognise your suit?” Bucky said, laughing as hard as Steve. He was in a full body spandex suit, that had a similar design to Captain America’s uniform, true, but the strangest colour scheme Steve had ever seen.   
  
“Why is it purple?” Steve gasped, unable to keep himself upright anymore, hands clutching his stomach. He felt a weight settle over his hips, and looked up to see Bucky, straddling him, a Chesire cat grin on his face.   
  
“Well, red and blue make purple. So it’s vaguely logical,” he said, shoulders shaking with his laughter.   
  
“I cannot believe you bought that. I can’t believe you let Becca buy that!” Steve said, pulling at one sleeve.   
  
“I could not resist, look at this beautiful example of craftsmanship and respect. They clearly know your demographic.”  
  
“Yeah, children. How is that staying on your body without ripping?”   
  
“Willpower,” Bucky said, his grin widening.   
  
Steve tilted his head at him, grinned back, and then flipped them, so Bucky landed on his back, letting out an ‘ooph’ as he did, and Steve swung his legs over either side of Bucky’s.   
  
“Willpower, huh?” He said, gently pulling at the collar of the terrible thing.   
  
Bucky noticeably swallowed, and Steve felt his grin go wolfish.   
  
“How attached are you to this monstrosity?” Steve asked, trying to sound innocent.   
  
Bucky’s voice was a little weak, which thrilled Steve. “Not particularly. It was cheap as hell. Thought it would make you laugh.”   
  
“It did. I would like to try something, though. It would probably render it unwearable, though,” Steve said, thoughtfully.   
  
“Green light. Go for it,” Bucky said quickly.   
  
Steve grinned, tightened two fists into the fabric over Bucky’s chest, and _pulled_.   
  
The thing ripped right down the middle, from Bucky’s neck to just below his belly button.   
  
Bucky’s eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he said, breath panting. Steve shrugged, fake-nonchalant. He knew Bucky could feel just what that had done to him. “Do that again,” Bucky said.   
  
Well. Steve could definitely follow that order.   
  
\--  
  
“Buck. Bucky, hey.”  
  
“Mmph?”  
  
“I’m going for a run. Be back in an hour.”   
  
“Mmph.”  
  
“Okay. Love you too.”  
  
“Mmurgh.”  
  
\--  
  
The second time Bucky woke up, his ringtone had been going off for the better part of ten minutes. He blindly let his hand flop around, looking for it, and when he felt something vibrate under his fingers, he hit the screen enough times that the ringtone cut off. He assumed that meant he answered it, and pressed it vaguely near his ear.  
  
“‘Lo?”  
  
“Bucky, it’s Talia.”   
  
Cold, ice cold adrenaline flooded his veins, and Bucky was suddenly more awake than he’d ever been. He shot up, dropping the phone to pull himself into a sitting position, and then grabbed the phone back.   
  
“What happened?”   
  
“She, well. She went ahead with the treatment,” Talia said uneasily, and if Bucky had super strength, he would’ve crushed the phone in his tight grip.  
  
“That was supposed to go ahead Monday. When I was back,” he said, worry making his voice shake.   
  
“She had the right to push it up. The specialist was there already, and there was enough time to fit her in. So she went ahead.”  
  
“And then what?” Bucky’s chest felt tight, that familiar iron band closing around it.   
  
“She had an attack,” Talia said, and Bucky hunched over.   
  
“Fuck. I’m on my way.”   
  
“She’s back in her room, we stimmed her as quickly as we could, but she hasn’t regained consciousness.”   
  
Bucky was already off the bed, phone on speaker, tugging on whatever clothes were closest. He started to throw everything else into the cases haphazardly, leaving it up to them later to sort out what belonged to who. “That’s normal though, right?”   
  
Talia sighed. “There is some worry that the treatment may have weakened her-”  
  
An alarm started going off. Talia swore.   
  
“Talia? What’s going on?” Bucky froze, staring at the phone, that iron band tightening until he couldn’t breath.  
  
“Code Blue! Code Blue!” He heard.   
  
“Fuck!” Talia shouted, and then the phone went dead.   
  
\--  
  
Steve jogged up the stairs to the rental, pushing sweaty hair off his forehead. He wanted to just crawl back into bed beside Bucky, but he should probably shower first. Bucky would probably kick him out, being this sweaty, though the thought of being curled back around him was almost enough to convince Steve to just do it anyway.   
  
He opened the front door, going to shut it behind him quietly, but heard banging and Bucky’s breathing, sounding strained. He frowned, and headed for the stairs. “Buck?” He called out.   
  
“Steve, help me,” Bucky said, and he sounded wrecked.   
  
What the fuck had happened?  
  
Steve took the stairs two at a time, and headed into the bedroom, finding Bucky struggling to close the suitcase with just one hand. His eyes were red, and tears were tracking down his face.   
  
“Buck! Buck, sweetheart, what happened?” Steve said, heart plunging into his stomach, as he knelt by Bucky and cupped his face.   
  
“Becca,” Bucky said, turning devastated eyes on him, and Steve didn’t need any more explanation. He zipped up the suitcase, grabbed the other one, and pulled Bucky up.   
  
“Let’s go get her,” he said, and Bucky nodded.   
  
They headed to the car as fast as possible, Steve throwing the cases in the back, Bucky nearly tearing the door off the passenger side as he got in.   
  
“How long did it take to get here?” He asked, in a small, terrified voice, once Steve was in the driver’s seat, and they were heading back towards New York. Steve’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.  
  
“One hour and eleven minutes,” Steve said, and heard a muffled, heartbroken noise. “We’re going to get to her. She’s gonna be fine,” he tried to reassure Bucky.  
  
“Last thing I heard was ‘code blue’,” Bucky said.   
  
Steve had to force himself not to tighten his grip any further. This wasn’t his car, after all. He really shouldn’t break anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, it is angst from here on out. I love you all, brace yourselves <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh my god i am SO SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG.  
> My mental health took a bit of a tumble and as such my creativity was absolutely sapped. However, with some support from my lovely friends I've been able to get this written in a couple of days, so hopefully I should be able to wrap this story up in a more timely fashion. 
> 
> Quick warning for this chapter, there is some suicide ideation-ish. The word is never mentioned, nor the act, it is spoken about from a more medical perspective.

There was no funny text from Becca, flipping him off and smiling tiredly. There was no reassuring words from Talia, or Lucy, or Kesh. There was just silence. From everything.  
  
Becca’s room had never felt so cold. The only comfort he had was the small movement of her chest, up and down, up and down. Tiny, but there.  
  
Months. It had been months since her last attack. Things were good. Life felt good, why now? Why this?  
  
Why had she decided to move it up? What happened to her that made her think that the treatment needed to happen two days before it was planned? Bucky couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He couldn’t even consider it as in the same timeline as Saturday. As days stretched passed from the day spent out of the city, Bucky started to wonder if it was a dream, or a delirious hallucination. Hell, the last six months could be included in that.  
  
Had he...had he been ignoring Becca worsening, just because he had started this thing with Steve?  
  
As soon as the thought occurred to him, he could not think of anything else. His hand fisted in his hair, tightening enough to be painful, but it wasn’t penance enough. God, if he had, if he hadn’t seen the signs of her slipping because he was busy indulging himself-  
  
“Hey, hey,” Steve’s voice said, and there was a hand gently forcing his away from his hair and threading fingers together, another hand gently cupped his face. “What’re you thinking? What’s going on?” He murmured, thumb stroking down his finger.  
  
Bucky choked on a breath.  
  
“Buck, talk to me. Talk me through it,” Steve said, pressing their foreheads together. Was it wrong? Was it fair, to take this comfort, to try and let it settle him, while his sister lay across the room, still, except for that tiny movement of her chest?  
  
“Did...did I let this happen?” Bucky asked finally, his voice barely indistinguishable from a breath.  
  
“No! Buck, how could you ever think that?” Steve sounded genuinely horrified, and Bucky leaned more into him. His faith in him made Bucky love him more, but didn’t dissuade the idea that had lodged in his brain, like a sickly, thorned weed.  
  
“If I- if we hadn’t- I mean- what if I let myself ignore something, so that I could be selfish-” Bucky got out, the words feeling like poison.  
  
Steve drew back, let go of his hand, only enough so that he could cup Bucky’s face and tilt it so that he could look into his eyes. There were tears in them, and Bucky felt worse. “You think being with me distracted you from seeing Becca get worse?” He said, and his voice-  
  
Bucky was heartbroken enough, but apparently there was enough left to shatter further.  
  
“Bucky, how could you ever think that about yourself? How could ever doubt how much you care about Becca? She much as twitches and you’re there, making sure she’s all right. You’re here as often as you can be. She was thrilled when you started taking more time for yourself!”  
  
“But what if I-” Bucky started, and Steve pressed one finger to his lips.  
  
“You didn’t.”  
  
Bucky moved his head. “If she was-”  
  
“You didn’t. You didn’t miss something. We don’t know what happened, why Becca did what she did. When she wakes up, we’ll ask her. But this is not your fault.”  
  
Bucky tried to duck his head, but Steve’s hand was still on his face, keeping their gaze on each other. Steve looked less like he was about to cry, and more determined. Ready to fight even Bucky, to tear out the weed choking his breath.  
  
“It isn’t your fault,” Steve repeated, and pulled Bucky close, wrapping his arms around him. Bucky’s hand clenched in his jacket.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said after a while, half-sobbing around the words.  
  
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Steve soothed.  
  
“I don’t regret being with you,” Bucky urged, pressing into Steve’s neck.  
  
“I don’t either, sweetheart.”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
\--  
  
**Natasha R** : You guys need anything?  
**Me** : I wouldn’t even know how to ask. He only eats when I hold food directly in his face.  
**Clint B** : maybe just put the idea past him that maybe going home is a good idea  
**Natasha R** : At least for some sleep. Maybe say Becca would want him to?  
**Me** : That’s usually Talia’s tactic.  
**Natasha R** : So she’s tried?  
**Me** : She came in yesterday, looked at Bucky, opened her mouth, then sighed and left.  
**Clint B** : well fuck  
**Me** : Yeah. Not much in the way of hope around here.  
**Natasha R** : Both of you hang in there. Becca’s strong.  
**Clint B** : you guys need anything were here no matter what even tony  
**Me** : I know. Thanks, guys.  
  
\--  
  
Steve greeted Elise and Thistle with quick, firm hugs. “Thanks for coming. I need to head to Bucky’s, grab him some more clothes.” God, he sounded tired and sad, even to him.  
  
Elise signed for Thistle, who shook her head. She signed back, and Elise nodded. “We’d come no matter what. Sarge has been there for us plenty of times before,” she said. She squeezed Steve’s arm, trying for comforting, but he could see in her face that she was just as worried.  
  
“I didn’t want you guys to have to close,” Steve said, a little miserably.  
  
Thistle signed something, and Elise translated again. “Worse things have happened than losing a day’s business.” Thistle nodded and looked inside Becca’s room. The look on her face damn near broke Steve’s heart. He knew what she was seeing. Bucky had crawled up onto Becca’s bed last night, wrapped his arm around her, and hadn’t moved since.  
  
Thistle headed in, sitting in the chair next to the bed, wrapping her fingers around Bucky’s hand. He lifted his head; his eyes were red and the shadows under his eyes were nearly black.  
  
Steve dropped his head, biting his lip. “I might head to the Tower instead. It’s closer, Bucky’s left some things there too,” he said to Elise, gritting his teeth.  
  
Elise wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist, squeezing gently. “We’ll be here. Do what you need to.”  
  
Steve squeezed Elise’s shoulders in return. “You got him,” he said, knowing they did.  
  
He let go of her to head into Becca’s room, leaning over his comatose friend to kiss Bucky’s temple. “I’ll be back soon. I love you,” he murmured.  
  
“Love you too,” Bucky said, his voice weak and raspy. Steve screwed his eyes shut, holding back tears.  
  
He rested a hand on Thistle’s shoulder as he passed, and nodded at Elise, before he headed back down, his hand clenching.  
  
\--  
  
Once he’d retrieved a change of clothes for Bucky, and changed his own, he headed downstairs to Tony and Bruce’s lab.  
  
Tony looked up as the doors opened, and offered Steve nothing else but a sympathetic smile, before looking back down at his work. Somehow, that was worse than a remark.  
  
“Steve, hey,” Bruce said, getting up from his desk to walk over to him. Steve met him halfway, and Bruce gave him a gentle hug. “I’m sorry. How’s she going?”  
  
“She hasn’t woken up yet. They’re saying it’s a case of just waiting. It’s...I’ve never been good at patience,” Steve said, keeping his feelings on the matter to a minimum. He can’t break down here, he hasn’t got time.  
  
Bruce shrugged. “No one blames you, or Bucky, for impatience here.” He smiles sadly at Steve, clapping his shoulder. “Can we help in any way?”  
  
Steve let the tiniest bit of hope flare up, before he tamped it back down. “Bruce, I- I was hoping, is there anyone you could ask? To...consult? Or something?” Were his hands shaking?  
  
Bruce sighed, dropping his head. “I’m not sure. I’m not familiar with autoimmune diseases, and from what I’ve heard from you and Bucky, Becca’s case seems pretty unique.”  
  
“Is there- anything, anyone? At all?” Steve hated how weak he sounded, but he couldn’t regret it. Couldn’t regret how much he needed to exhaust every option at his disposal. Bucky had done the same thing, searched everywhere, and now Steve could try the things he couldn’t before. Reach out to people Bucky hadn’t had access too.  
  
Bruce gave him a long look, and finally nodded. “I’ll reach out to a few old colleagues. See if anyone knows anything. But I can’t promise a miracle, Steve.”  
  
“I know,” Steve said. “I think miracles ran out a while back.”  
  
\--  
  
**Thistle DeLS** : She’s awake, get back here ASAP  
  
\--  
  
Steve tore out of the elevator, running straight for Becca’s room, but he could hear the shouting from her room from the end of the hall. Elise and Thistle stood outside, arms around each other, Elise’s knuckles white from hanging on so hard.  
  
“- and you don’t get a fucking say in it! It’s my fucking life!” Becca shouted, hoarse and exhausted.  
  
“You really think I’m just going to stand back and watch while you-” Bucky shot back, and Steve could hear the tears in his voice.  
  
“YES! YES I DO!”  
  
Steve turned frantic panicked eyes on Elise, and she gave him a look back of utter despair. “She- she wants to sign a Do No Resuscitate order,” she said, sounding devastated. “So that they next time she- when she gets another attack-”  
  
“She’ll die,” Steve finished, heart stopping in his chest.  
  
Elise’s lip trembled, but she nodded, teeth gritted together.  
  
Every part of Steve felt freezing cold, like he was drowning in the Arctic again, swallowed by ice-cold water and shattered parts of the Valkyrie. Time had stopped, the world had stopped revolving. Nothing would ever make sense again.  
  
“Becs, please, please, don’t. We have other options, we have things we haven’t tried, there’s got to be-” Bucky started again, pleading, and Steve’s heart shattered.  
  
“Something else? Like what? Like fucking what, Bucky? You think someone’s got a spare immune system they wanna donate? Or they can put me in a robot body?”  
  
“Why not? Why not see if someone-”  
  
“You’re fucking delusional. This is it. That was it. It’s over. We lost.”  
  
Steve’s hand shot out to steady himself against the wall. His body wasn’t responding, all his strength sapped out of him. Thistle curled a hand around his wrist, united with him in horror, even if she couldn’t hear it.  
  
“Don’t say that.”  
  
“It’s true, isn’t it? What do you expect me to wait for?”  
  
“Anything, Becs! It’s better than giving up!”  
  
Becca didn’t talk for a long time, and Steve began to think she had fallen asleep again, when she said, so quietly. “I’m tired.”  
  
“I know, I know you are, Becs. You’ve been fighting this for so long-”  
  
“I’m done. I’m done fighting. I don’t want to anymore.”  
  
“...please-”  
  
“Just go, Bucky.”  
  
Steve’s head shot up, staring at the door in abject terror. She- she was kicking him out?  
  
“Becs-”  
  
“Go!”  
  
No, no, this isn’t real- this was some sort of awful nightmare. He’d wake up- he’s got to wake up-  
  
The door to her room opened, and Bucky stepped out, eyes wide, panicked, red rimmed, and his skin stark white. He was trembling, his hand opening and closing like even his limbs were having an out of body experience. Elise was quick to step over to him, wrapping him up, hugging him tight. “It’s not over yet,” she murmured, and Steve ducked his head, biting down hard on his lip.  
  
“Yes it is,” Bucky said, voice desolate.  
  
\--  
  
Bucky made it as far as the sofa before he crumpled, falling onto the cushions like a puppet with its strings cut. Steve went him to as fast as he could, wrapping him up, letting him press his face into his shoulder. He didn’t cry, he was near soundless, except for his breathing.  
  
And that was more terrifying than anything else.  
  
“We’ll figure it out. We’ll find something,” Steve said, feeling his own desperation. “I asked Bruce to reach out to people, there might still be someone, Bucky.”  
  
Bucky said nothing. His hand was limp against’s Steve’s shoulder. Steve stroked long lines down his spine.  
  
“Bucky? Bucky, baby. Talk to me,” he said softly, against Bucky’s hair.  
  
“Can you grieve for someone who isn’t dead yet?” Came the eventual, shattered reply. Steve’s heart, already in pieces, gave up entirely on getting back together.  
  
“Bucky, you can’t talk like that. It’s not too late. She’s still here, she just needs help,” he said, trying to sound reassuring, but sounding more like pleading.  
  
Bucky went back to silence, and after a few moments, pulled away from Steve. Steve, mechanically, let him go, and watched as he crossed the room into his bedroom. Steve stood, staring helplessly after him, torn between giving him space and following him, not knowing which Bucky needed or wanted. He wanted- god, he wanted-  
  
He wanted Erskine’s serum to magically come back. He wanted Thor to descend with an Asgardian cure, he wanted Tony to invent something incredible, but those were miracles. And he’d said to Bruce that they’d run out.  
  
Steve sat heavily on the couch, dropping his head into his hands. He remembered, months ago, Becca telling him that he couldn’t throw his shield at her ‘shitty body’, and a harsh laugh tore out of his mouth. She was right, there was nothing he could do. His powers were useless here. Strategy couldn’t help her, there was no evil enemy making this happen to her. It was just her body fighting itself. Killing itself.  
  
He could remember his own body fighting itself, every breath a battle, every sickness bringing him closer and closer to those pearly gates, meeting his maker. If he hadn’t been given the serum, how many more winters would he have gotten? He was only three years older than Becca, and with a swooping feeling in his stomach, he realised that she was the same age now as he had been then.  
  
God.  
  
He didn’t know what to do with himself, fighting the urge to go and curl up with Bucky, try to comfort him, gain some comfort himself, so he tried to distract himself, ending up just pacing between rooms, picking things up, setting them back down, opening books and then promptly closing them. Time was a nebulous, unknown thing that crept by and then sped by. Night had fallen outside the window before Steve knew it.  
  
He stood by the window, and stared out. The world he’d fought so hard for, the world he believed in fighting for. And not a single person out there was more deserving of living in that world than Becca Barnes.  
  
The first thing that happened next, was on the table, his phone began to ring. He took one step towards it, and then-  
  
A cry of complete anguish from Bucky.  
  
Steve didn’t even think, he tore into the room, immediately going to Bucky’s side. He was curled over in on himself, hand fisting in his hair, sobbing breathlessly, cries tearing themselves from his throat. Steve clambered onto the bed, sliding his body around Bucky’s holding him tight.  
  
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he murmured, cupping Bucky’s face. Bucky pressed into him, his sounds choked and so fucking sad, and Steve couldn’t do anything. He was helpless. Useless. Strength could do nothing, and his healing only affected him. He couldn’t help Bucky, couldn’t help Becca.  
  
“I’m here. I love you,” he said, tears of his own welling up.  
  
\--  
  
“Steve? It’s Bruce. Sorry to call so late, but I might have something for you. There’s a lab based in DC that contacted me. Specialists in autoimmune diseases, working on a way to rebuild immune systems. It could be exactly the thing to help Becca. I’ll send you through the details, but it’s called Lerna Labs. Okay. Hope you’re all right, and Bucky. Bye.”  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : Are you awake?  
 **Rebecca B** : _read 5.14am_  
**Me** : I need to talk to you  
 **Rebecca B** : What could you possibly say that Bucky didn’t?  
  
\--  
  
Steve closed Bucky’s door gently behind him, Bucky having fallen into an uneasy sleep. He held his phone to his ear, hoping beyond hope that Becca would just pick up, just hear him out-  
  
“Refer to last text,” Becca’s voice said, scratchy and tired.  
  
“Becca, I need you to hear me out,” Steve said, sitting on the couch, his hand gripping the phone hard.  
  
Becca sighed, and Steve could hear rustling. “What.”  
  
“Bruce found a lab out in DC, they specialise in-”  
  
“Fucking god, Steve. Really? Really? You want me to again, drag myself through being someone’s fucking guinea pig?”  
  
Steve startled back, not expecting that response. He wondered why he expected different. “If it’s a chance-”  
  
“I. Am. Done. Done with it. I’m not wasting anyone’s time trying to eek out months more of hospital time.”  
  
“Becca, they might-”  
  
“Because this is it, Steve! This is my life! Hospital. I’ve been in here for 12 years. 12 fucking years of standing on the precipice of death. I don’t care anymore. I’m ready to fall. Least I know what happens then.”  
  
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Steve said, and he felt suddenly cold at his harsh words, but he didn’t take them back. He heard Becca’s shocked intake of breath. “I didn’t have what you have. I wasn’t as sick, I will say that. But I was in and out of hospitals, every time I had a damn cold I got something worse. My heart didn’t work, my lungs didn’t work, and I cost my mother more money than she could ever make in a year. I felt guilty and tired and wondered sometimes if it was worth it.”  
  
Steve sucked in a breath, shaking with the weight of his words. God, he hadn’t ever said as much, had he? Arnie had been the only witness to how much he hated himself for causing his mother so much worry and strain.  
  
“You know what my mother said to me? I was 13, had just survived the worst pnuemonia I’d had yet, and I went to her crying. Asking her what was the point. She looked at me, cupped my cheeks. She said, ‘it doesn’t matter what knocks you down, Steven. You find a way to get back up.’”  
  
There was a soft, weak noise from Becca. Steve promised himself that he’d hug her the second he saw her today.  
  
“You get back up, Becs. And maybe this won’t work. Maybe this is a Hail Mary. But this could be the one. You don’t know yet,” he said, and those noises got a little louder. “If you won’t do it for you, do it for Bucky. He would tear down cities for you.”  
  
A watery chuckle, that made Steve smile too, if a little weakly.  
  
“It’s hard. It’s hard being that strong, keeping all that pain away. But you don’t have to carry it alone, and you can’t give up. You can’t, not this time. Not now.” Not ever, he wanted to say.  
  
Becca made a few more soft, devastating noises, but finally breathed into the phone, and it sounded less shaky. “Okay.”  
  
Steve smiled properly, exhaling roughly. “Yeah.”  
  
“Yeah. I...I won’t sign the DNR. Yet.”  
  
“I’ll take that.”  
  
“And these labs? They...they’re legit?”  
  
“Bruce believes so.”  
  
“...okay. Okay.”  
  
“Becca, thank you,” Steve said, nearly crying in relief.  
  
Becca laughed roughly. “Doesn’t feel like I deserve that.”  
  
“Bucky will forgive you. He already has.”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah,” Becca said, terribly sadly. “I’m- I’m gonna go. Maybe try and sleep.”  
  
“Good idea. We’ll come and see you later.”  
  
“Right. Okay. Well...bye, Steve.”  
  
“Bye, Becca. Sleep well.”  
  
“Wait, Steve?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Tell Bucky I’m sorry?”  
  
Steve smiled softly. “Of course Becca. See you later.”  
  
Becca hung up, and Steve immediately found his email app, going through to find Bruce’s email, outlining everything he had on Lerna Labs and their research. He headed back into Bucky’s room, and woke him gently. “Buck?”  
  
Bucky opened his eyes blearily, looking worn, and much older than his 28 years. “Is-” He suddenly shot up, eyes frantic. “Is it Becs?”  
  
Steve shook his head, and handed over his phone with a smile. “Bruce found something. We might have the answer.”  
  
Bucky read over the email, looked up at Steve, and then looked back down.  
  
And then he choked out a laugh, a grin stretching his lips, even as tears fell down his cheeks again, but this time they were tears of relief, and Steve felt exactly the same. He gathered Bucky in his arms, pressed his face into his hair, and cried his own deeply relieved tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully next chapter will be up before the end of the week, but rest assured that I will upload it the second I finish it, no matter what. Thank you so much for all your patience.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> me, yesterday: omg the hint was too obvious people are gonna guess DX  
> me, today: well, i guess not. huehuehue
> 
> deep breath, everyone.

Becca’s skin was grey, even in the sunlight of late afternoon, she had deep, dark shadows under her eyes, and there was a tremble throughout her entire body, but she was awake. Tired, unsmiling, barely looking up from blanket-covered legs, but awake.  
  
Bucky was grateful for at least that.  
  
She hadn’t said a word when they walked in that morning, not even when Elise and Thistle sat on the edge of the bed, trying to ask how she was. She managed a half smile, and then fell back into a blank expression. Bucky wondered if it had changed at all since she’d woken up, if anyone had gotten a smile or a frown or- anything.  
  
Her hand in his tightened slightly, as if sensing his thoughts, and he squeezed back.  
  
Thistle’s phone vibrated on the table, and she got up to check it. She sighed, gesturing Elise over. Who then also sighed.  
  
“Something wrong?” Steve asked, frowning. Always the problem solver.  
  
“Abby. She’s- well. She’s gotten into trouble and she calls us first. We’re easier to get a hold of than her caretaker. I’ll go,” Elise said, kissing Thistle quickly, and coming over to give Becca a hug. Becca hugged back, if a little weakly. “Let me know how it goes?” She asked Bucky.  
  
“Of course,” he replied, pressing his body into her hug.  
  
Elise headed back out, and Thistle settled back onto the bed.  
  
Silence.  
  
Becca wriggled down under her covers, and closed her eyes. Her breathing didn’t even out, so Bucky didn’t think she was sleeping, but tired for her had taken on a whole new meaning, and he couldn’t help the panic he felt, and tucked his thumb over the pulse in her wrist.  
  
“I’m not going to spontaneously die, Buck,” Becca said, her voice a painful rasp.  
  
Bucky moved his thumb back, shamed.  
  
Steve tucked a hand around the nape of Bucky’s neck, and he was grateful for the soft touch, the comfort.  
  
He was even more grateful when he heard Talia’s voice up the hall, and an unfamiliar one. “Is that-?” He looked over to Thistle, asking the question with his eyes. Thistle got up, and poked her head out the door, turning back with a thumbs up. She hastened to sit in the chair in the corner instead.  
  
“Hey guys,” Talia said, knocking once on the door before she walked in. “How’s the- oh, is she asleep?” She frowned worriedly at Becca’s prone form.  
  
“Nope,” said the patient in question, and Talia smiled thinly, and still worried.  
  
“As long as you’re conscious then, this is Dr Sophie Friedrick,” she said, gesturing to the white, blonde woman who walked in next to her, dressed in an impeccable black suit and carrying a briefcase. Her blue eyes were cold, but overall she had a very professional air, which reassured Bucky. “Dr Friedrick, this is James Barnes, Rebecca’s brother.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, but didn’t let go of Becca’s hand to shake the doctor’s. Luckily, the woman seemed to notice his lack of spare hand, and didn’t offer her own.  
  
“And you, Mr Barnes. I’m so glad that I could be here to help,” she said, smiling, managing to soften the harsh look in her eyes. Her look turned to Steve, and her eyebrows raised. “I suppose you need no introduction.”  
  
“Nevertheless, it is the polite thing to do,” Steve said, standing and offering his hand. “Steve Rogers, ma’am.”  
  
She took it, cocking her head as if analysing him. “An honour, Captain. Truly.”  
  
Lastly, she turned to look at Thistle, who signed a hello. Dr Friedrick signed one right back, and Thistle seemed relieved she wouldn’t be left out of the conversation. “I will sign as I go, but I’m afraid I am a little rusty,” the doctor said, somewhat apologetically, her hands moving through the motions.  
  
“I can help,” Becca said, finally opening her eyes back up, and forcing herself to sit up right. “Been practising with Thistle and Bucky the last three years.”  
  
“That would be appreciated, truly, Miss Barnes. Now, would you mind if I asked you a few questions about your experience in here? And about your perceptions of your illness?” Dr Friedrick pulled a notepad and pen out of her briefcase, and sat on the edge of the bed, tucking one ankle behind the other.  
  
Becca waved an airy hand. Bucky tried not to stare at the way it shook. She dropped Bucky’s hand, and he forced himself not to take it back. “Go for it. Rebecca’s fine, by the way.”  
  
The doctor smiled, approvingly. “Thank you, Rebecca. Now-”  
  
The questions felt pretty standard to Bucky, and he and Talia answered wherever Becca couldn’t. The doctor diligently took notes. Becca signed for Thistle the whole way through, Thistle absent-mindedly chewing on her nail, brow furrowed in concern. Bucky had never wanted his left hand back more, as well as maybe three others, so he could hold on to all his loved ones in this room. Steve’s steady hand on the back of his neck kept him grounded, helped him not break when Becca described the pain, the helplessness.  
  
The doctor finished writing notes down from the last round of questions, and asked nothing else, going through them. She pursed her lips, and Bucky heard Becca make a small, worried sound, and his hand immediately shot out to rest on her side, squeezing gently. She patted it, but kept it free, to sign for Thistle.  
  
“The good news is, you are a good candidate. We want to be able to test the treatment on someone who very much needs it, but we also want to see the capability of it.” Bucky felt the tension in his shoulders drop, and felt his eyes well up with grateful tears. “However-”  
  
God, fuck, no, no however. Please, no however!  
  
“-I have to warn you. You would be our first human trial.”  
  
“Dr Banner didn’t mention that,” Steve said immediately, his tone commanding.  
  
Dr Friedrick nodded. “Something we kept from him. We wanted to see if Rebecca would even be a viable candidate beforehand.”  
  
Thistle signed rapidly, and Becca nodded. “That shouldn’t be something you keep from candidates, no matter the treatment,” she said. Thistle looked angry, but Becca’s voice did not carry that over.  
  
The doctor nodded again, and turned a grim look on Thistle. “I understand your concerns, Captain Rogers and Mrs De le Serre. But the nature of the treatment is very much in the testing stage, and we have kept it deeply under wraps. We reached out to Dr Banner after a mutual colleague informed us of Rebecca’s case, and we deemed it important to ensure she was a possibility before we got anyone’s hopes up.” She turned back to look at Becca, who finished signing the last of that to Thistle, keeping her hands up in case the doctor said anything else. “We are fully aware of how crushing it would be already, to know you wouldn’t be viable.”  
  
“And you need someone desperate,” Becca said, eyes narrowing. Bucky could laugh, that was Becca. Cutting through the bullshit.  
  
The doctor put the cap back on her pen, and slid both it and the pad back into her briefcase. “I’m not going to lie to you, Rebecca,” she began, sitting back up and making eye contact with Becca. “Yes. We need someone who has nothing to lose, because there is no guarantee of the procedure working 100%, and there is a mortality risk.”  
  
“She could die!?” Bucky yelled, jolting as if to get out of the chair. “What the hell kind of-”  
  
“Bucky, I want to hear this,” Becca said, her quiet voice cutting through Bucky’s words, and Bucky shut his mouth at her request, but turned pleading eyes on her. She gave him an impassive look, and turned back to the doctor. “Go on.”  
  
The doctor nodded. “As I was saying, there is a mortality risk. In animal testing, we managed to get the chances high enough that it isn’t a high risk, but it is a risk nonetheless. I cannot promise anything else but a chance. And, judging from the variety of things you’ve tried over the last 12 years, I think it would be accurate to say this is your last chance, Rebecca.”  
  
Talia folded her arms over, staring hard at the doctor, like she was seeing something Bucky couldn’t. Not that Bucky was paying attention to much else, other than the thought that even if Becca took this chance, he could lose her anyway. God, fucking- This wasn’t fair!  
  
Becca seemed to have the same thought. “Yeah, you’re right. Got nothing else. And if it’s a choice between dying on your operating table or dying in this bed, I’d rather go out knowing I at least gave it once last go.” She turned to look at Bucky, smiling ruefully. “Wanna see my brother get married, after all.”  
  
Bucky covered his mouth with his arm, trying to muffle the sudden sobs, and Steve’s hand moved so his arm wrapped around his shoulders, and he pressed his forehead to the side of Bucky’s head.  
  
“As much as I am thrilled to hear you want to take part, I’d feel better if you gave this some thought. I’m here until Friday, I can come on Wednesday? Talk it over with your brother, and your nurse.” The doctor picked up her briefcase, giving the room a nod. “It was lovely to meet you all. Rebecca, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”  
  
“I’ll show you out,” Talia said, and the two women left.  
  
Thistle took the doctor’s spot on the bed, rubbing her hand up and down Becca’s leg. Becca slid her hand back into Bucky’s. Bucky gripped it tight.  
  
“I- I...if I have to lose you-” Bucky couldn’t manage the rest of the sentence, gritting his teeth hard against the furious, helpless tears.  
  
Becca pressed her lips to his knuckles. “I know, I know. It’s okay, Bucks. It’s okay.”  
  
She was comforting him.  
  
What kind of fucking upside down world had his life turned into?  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : Nat, can I have a favour?  
**Natasha R** : Anything.  
**Me** : Lerna Labs, and Dr Sophie Friedrick. Can you run a check?  
**Natasha R** : The meeting didn’t go well?  
**Me** : No, it’s...it’s just a feeling. Something didn’t sit right.  
**Natasha R** : Okay. Want me to clue Banner in?  
**Me** : Can’t hurt. I’d rather he know what he’s endorsing.  
**Natasha R** : I’ll let you know if I catch anything.  
  
\--  
  
**Elise** : Oh, Bucky. I don’t even know what to say.  
**Me** : shes right tho, isnt she? better on the table  
**Elise** : Jesus. What a fucking decision.  
**Me** : hers to make. as much as its killing me.  
**Me** : fucking irony in that  
**Elise** : You’ve done everything you can.  
**Me** : i hope so. god, i fucking hope so  
  
\--  
  
Bucky left Steve and Thistle in Becca’s room to head to the nurse’s station. Talia was in there, having already escorted Dr Friedrick out, and was going through something on the computer. She looked up when he walked in, offering a weak smile.  
  
“What did you think?” Bucky asked, dropping into the chair in front of her desk.  
  
Talia sighed. “She wasn’t wrong. We’ve got nothing else we can try right now. And while Becca might not be about to- go, right at this moment-”  
  
“Matter of time, right?” Bucky said, trying not to sound bitter.  
  
“Unfortunately true. I’ve never heard of these guys, but it’s not exactly uncommon for labs to keep quiet until they have something worth shouting about.” Talia still seemed uneasy.  
  
“So the whole, we didn’t tell anyone anything because we didn’t want to get hopes up, that’s legit?” Bucky pressed.  
  
“If they want to market the procedure, probably.”  
  
Bucky scoffed, and leaned back in the chair, his hand tightening into a fist. “Would be profits, wouldn’t it.”  
  
“State of pharmaceuticals, unfortunately.”  
  
Silence stretched between them, Bucky’s eyes fixed on the shelf stacked full of patient files, until Talia cleared her throat. He looked back, and saw the apologetic look on her face.  
  
“James, we have done everything we can. We can keep doing it for as long as we can. But- this. This might be her only chance, even with the risk.”  
  
Bucky unclenched his hand to run his fingers through his hair. He felt scraped raw.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I- I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. You and the doctors,” he said, lamely. Talia reached over the desk to pat his shoulder.  
  
“She’s special to us, she’s family. I’m sorry we couldn’t do better for her. For you both.”  
  
Bucky squeezed her hand once, then left the station.  
  
\--  
  
Tuesday night found Bucky and Becca on their own, lying on Becca’s bed. This had been her home for 12 years, and tomorrow that was going to change. A last ditch effort, that for herself felt pointless, but- well, like Steve said. If not for herself, then for Bucky. Her own life felt like a weight bearing down, crushing her, but Bucky was right there, trying to turn it into something soft. Worth treasuring.  
  
“Christmas next week,” Bucky said, staring at the ceiling. “What do you want?”  
  
Becca squeezed her eyes shut, willing back tears. Would she even be alive next week? Why should she try and reassure him?  
  
“Come on, Becs. You don’t tell me, and I’m getting you socks.”  
  
Becca laughed, watery. Weak. “Dumbledore says that’s the best present.”  
  
“God forbid I go against Dumbledore.”  
  
Bucky rolled over, pressing his face into Becca’s shoulder, and Becca freed her arm (skeletal, pale), to pat his head. “Could still be in DC next week.”  
  
“I’ll be there with you.” Becca couldn’t look at him, not with his face hidden, but she stared at him in disbelief.  
  
“You’d leave Steve? Your friends?”  
  
“Until you’re out of surgery or whatever. Steve can visit, SHIELD HQ is in DC anyway,” Bucky said, sounding sure, determined, even if muffled.  
  
Yeah, Bucky. Put your life on pause again to watch your dying sister. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do, right? Waste away at the bedside of someone already doomed.  
  
“And if I told you to stay?” Becca said, and sighed when Bucky propped himself up as best he could, staring at her, brow furrowed.  
  
“You don’t want me to-”  
  
“No, but I understand why you want to. I just don’t want you to...feel like you have to.” Not quite how she felt, but Bucky deserved softer words after the way she’d screamed at him.  
  
“I don’t. I want to be there for you. Honestly, Becca, if I’m not there in person, I’ll be here thinking about it non-stop,” he said, with a helpless shrug.  
  
“I can’t convince you at all? To stay here. Until at least I’m in recovery?” Becca asked, feeling a little desperate. She didn’t want him sitting in some room for days, waiting to see if she survived or not. At least here he would have home, and his friends. His boyfriend.  
  
“Why?” Bucky asked, and she hated the way his voice shook.  
  
“Same reason why I bumped the earlier procedure up.”  
  
“I don’t understand, Becca. I’ve always been here for procedures.”  
  
“I- I need you here. Not there. Not waiting outside the door.” Not uprooting the smallest bit of life you’ve found to follow me.  
  
“I could just come anyway. Could come up without your permission.” Becca laughed, and nudged him.  
  
“Stubborn.”  
  
“Runs in the family,” he said softly, butting his head against hers, before lying back down, his left side pressed against her right. She could feel the stump of his shoulder pressing into her, and squeezed her eyes shut again. He’d lost enough.  
  
“Okay,” he said, finally, the word floating up into the quiet of the room. Becca sighed in relief, turning her head to press into Bucky’s neck. “I don’t understand it, but if it’s what you want- I only ever want you to have what you want.”  
  
Becca laughed again, small and watery, but relieved.  
  
They lay in silence again, Becca savouring the warmth and closeness of her brother.  
  
“I would actually like socks,” she said finally, and Bucky laughed, the sound a shock of joy.  
  
“All right. I’ll get you socks, then.”  
  
“Novelty socks.”  
  
“I’ll bet I can find some with the shield on them.”  
  
“Gross. I don’t want to be thinking about your boyfriend when I’m trying to keep my feet warm.”  
  
“How dare you, he’s a national treasure.”  
  
“Some parts of him certainly are.”  
  
“Now who’s being gross!?” Bucky exclaimed, reaching across to poke Becca’s stomach. She made a joking strangled noise, and headbutted Bucky’s shoulder, before cuddling back into it.  
  
Bucky moved away for a brief moment, to turn onto his stomach, so he could wrap his arm around Becca, curled along the length of her, like he could protect her from everything.  
  
He’d tried. He’d tried so hard, and that broke Becca’s heart.  
  
“I love you a lot, Bucky,” she muttered into his shoulder, letting the tears fall this time.  
  
“I love you too, Becca. Always will,” he replied, kissing her forehead.  
  
She closed her eyes, burrowed close, and let her breathing sync up with Bucky’s.  
  
\--  
  
**Natasha R** : Nothing.  
**Me** : Nothing?  
**Natasha R** : All above board. I can’t find anything other than what Bruce sent you.  
**Me** : Maybe I was overreacting.  
**Natasha R** : Understandable. She’s your friend, you want to protect her.  
**Natasha R** : We’ve all seen how far you go to protect people you love.  
**Me** : Thanks, Nat :) at least for trying.  
**Natasha R** : You know me, any chance to snoop.  
  
\--  
  
Dr Friedrick arrived at the hospital at 10am.  
  
She left with plans in place to have Becca moved to DC on Friday morning by 10.15.  
  
For Bucky, it would never have been quick enough, or long enough. Too soon and not soon enough.  
  
\--  
  
Bucky threw a very small going-away party for Becca, inviting Nat, Clint, Elise and Thistle; Tony and Bruce opting to stay away, and Thor off world. Tony sent along his best wishes, an incredibly expensive bottle of champagne, and a promise that the Stark Foundation would cover any costs asked for by Lerna. Bruce promised to keep in contact, which was more a reassurance to Bucky than anything else.  
  
Becca was in the red dress she wore to Steve’s birthday party, the size 2 dwarfing her even further than before. He’d known his sister was skinny, but to see her so skeletal-  
  
But she was smiling, tiredly, but still smiling. She laughed at some terribly unfunny joke Clint was telling her, perched on the bedside table, Nat in the chair beside him. Elise and Thistle sat on the bed, Thistle cross-legged and leaning on Elise, who’d stretched her legs out over Becca’s. Talia dropped in every so often, between her rounds, and Lucy promised to come up once her shift was over.  
  
Bucky let his friends, Becca’s friends, have their moments with her. He’d have tonight, and tomorrow morning, before she was taken away. Taken away? God, he was thinking about it like kidnapping. It was her choice, it was her chance. He’d see her soon. He had to.  
  
Steve’s arm around his waist tightened, as if he could sense the dark turn Bucky’s thoughts had taken, and Bucky leaned into his side, and felt the warm brush of Steve’s lips on his temple.  
  
“It’s gonna be okay, Buck,” he murmured. Bucky nodded, pressing closer.  
  
“You said that last time, you know,” he replied, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.  
  
“Was I wrong?” Steve said, grinning, teeth blindingly white. Bucky smiled right back.  
  
\--  
  
_Secure connection: established_  
_Call: connected_  
  
“Doctor?”  
  
“Is everything prepared?”  
  
“Yes, we’re secure and prepped. We can start on arrival.”  
  
“Good. We fly out 9am. Be ready to start by 12.”  
  
“I’ll have the team standing by. Will the subject require restraints?”  
  
“No. She’s quite weak. I can’t imagine she’ll fight too much. If at all.”  
  
“Understood. See you tomorrow afternoon, Doctor.”  
  
_Call: ended._  
  
\--  
  
Early Friday morning, before the doctor arrived with the medical transport, Bucky and Steve sat with Becca. Bucky hadn’t slept at all, and Steve didn’t blame him. Steve was practically vibrating with the need to burn of restless energy, had been all night, but he wasn’t going to leave Bucky’s side for a moment. Not right now, not when he needed support the most.  
  
“Here,” Bucky said, handing over a present to Becca, wrapped in the gaudiest Christmas paper Steve had ever seen.  
  
Becca laughed. “Do I have to wait?”  
  
Bucky waved a hand. “Christmas is the whole month, don’t you know?”  
  
Becca smiled, and unwrapped the gift, just tearing apart the paper.  
  
“That seems wasteful, you could’ve reused that,” Steve mock grumped. Becca simply bared her teeth at him, and then turned happy eyes on the pile of socks in her lap.  
  
“Awww, Buck! They’re so ugly!” Becca said delightedly, holding up a bright pink pair, patterned with tiny cacti.  
  
“Steve helped pick out a few pairs. Like the labrador ones.” Bucky pulled that pair out, the soft fluffy socks made up to look like dog faces, complete with ears.  
  
“Oh, Steve. They’re adorable. Can I put them on now?” Becca said, already pulling on the plastic keeping them together.  
  
“You’re asking permission?” Bucky laughed.  
  
Becca kept the smile on her face, but Steve could see the way her eyes lost a bit of sparkle. “More like asking for help. Can’t really bend over.”  
  
Bucky’s smile dimmed, but he took the socks from Becca, and slid them onto her bare feet. She was already on top of her covers, dressed to travel in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. A winter coat was ready on the back of a nearby chair.  
  
Becca wiggled her feet, making the ears of the socks flop back and forth. “I feel like I should start barking or something,” she said, looking at them fondly. Steve reached out and pretended to pat her feet.  
  
“What good boys you are,” he crooned, and Becca giggled helplessly.  
  
“I should be filming this. Twitter would go nuts.”  
  
Steve sighed, defeatedly. “I guess it would always inevitably come out that I was a big softie.”  
  
Bucky was about to say something, when there was a gentle knock on the door, and his mouth shut. He paled. Steve gripped his knee, and looked up to watch Talia walk in. In the hall, a couple of nurses stood ready with a stretcher, ready to move Becca into the medical transport. Steve swallowed.  
  
“They’re ready. The doctor’s downstairs,” Talia said, looking as sad as Steve felt.  
  
Becca nodded. “Better not keep her waiting,” she said, blankly. She brightened a little, smiling at Talia. “Do you like my socks?”  
  
Talia smiled. “Very nice. Pawfect, even.”  
  
Becca laughed, and held up her hand for a high-five, which Talia happily gave her.  
  
“I’ll pack these in your bag,” she offered, gathering up the other pairs of socks. “Steve, James, you’ll need to make room for the nurses here.”  
  
“Right,” Bucky said, and got up, a little shakily, Steve steadied him, as they walked out of the room, and then kept his arms around him. He tightened them when Becca moaned, and Bucky flinched.  
  
“All right, gently now. Okay. Rebecca? How’re you feeling?” Talia’s voice said.  
  
“Swell,” came the weak reply, and Bucky huffed soft laughter against Steve’s chest. Steve leaned his head on Bucky’s for a moment, smiling too.  
  
They wheeled Becca out, Steve and Bucky following behind. The nurses took the elevator down, Bucky getting in with them, and Steve bolted down the stairs, only narrowly missing beating them.  
  
“Jesus christ, Speed Racer, slow down,” Becca said, grinning at him. Steve shrugged, smugly.  
  
“You never know. You could be outrunning me soon,” he replied, squeezing her shoulder. He felt Bucky slip is hand into Steve’s free one.  
  
Becca gave him a look, and Steve laughed.  
  
It was pretty easy to pretend things weren’t about to change, hugely.  
  
Dr Friedrick over saw Becca being carefully pushed into the transport, and hooked up to more portable versions of her machines upstairs. Her former machines. “We’ve got to be ready to go in 15 minutes,” she said, and the nurses starting checking over preparations. She caught Bucky’s eye, and nodded inside, getting out of his way.  
  
“Go on,” Steve encouraged, and Bucky let his hand go, to climb up into the car, and wrap his arm around his sister, burying his face in her shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear them say anything, but maybe at this point they didn’t need to. Maybe it had already been said.  
  
Bucky stepped back, kissed Becca’s forehead, wiped away a few of her errant tears, and stepped out. Becca looked over at Steve, smiling. She waved. Steve snapped a salute, and she laughed, bright and cheery.  
  
And then Bucky was standing next to Steve again, nodding to something the doctor was saying, and the doors to the transport shut.  
  
“We’ll send updates the moment we can, Mr Barnes.”  
  
“Thank you. Take care of her.”  
  
“We will. Good to meet you both.”  
  
She climbed into a waiting car, and then they were gone, leaving Bucky and Steve standing on the footpath.  
  
“What do you want to do now?” Steve asked, gently.  
  
Bucky was quiet for a while. Until- “I think I wanna go home.”  
  
Steve wrapped an arm around him, kissed his temple, and lead him to his bike. “Then lets go home.”  
  
\--  
  
_Friday, 6.01pm_  
“You’ve called Lerna Labs. Our offices are closed currently, please call back during office hours.”  
  
_Saturday, 9.26am_  
“You’ve called Lerna Labs. Our offices are closed currently, please call back during office hours.”  
  
**Me** : steve no one’s getting in contact  
**Steve** : I’ll get Nat and Bruce on it.  
  
\--  
  
**Natasha R** : I can’t find anything.  
**Bruce B** : Either can I, the contact number I had doesn’t work.  
**Me** : There has to be something, somehow to get someone there?  
**Natasha R** : You might just have to wait until Monday. You know, office hours?  
**Me** : What?  
**Natasha R** : I’m absolutely kidding, I’m working on a hack right now. Gimme like, 10 hours tops.  
**Me** : Nearly had a goddamn heart attack, Nat.  
**Natasha R** : :)  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : steve for the love of god, tell me anything  
**Steve** : Nat’s finding a way around, she’s gonna find something, I promise  
**Me** : im losing my fucking mind  
**Steve** : It’s okay, she’s going to be okay  
**Me** : WE DONT KNOW THAT  
_Steve is calling._  
  
\--  
  
“I’d rather know, I need to know something, I can’t sit here and wait-”  
  
“I know, I know, Buck, believe me, Nat’s doing everything she can. We’ve even got JARVIS looking, I promise, we’re going to find out what’s going on.”  
  
“She landed in DC at ten-fucking-thirty yesterday. It’s nearly goddamn Sunday now. No one? No one could spare five seconds to call?”  
  
“We don’t know what’s going on there, there could be-”  
  
“What!? What could there be, Steve!?”  
  
“Bucky, I know you’re worried, and scared, but we really don’t have all the information...Bucky? Buck?”  
  
\--  
  
**Me** : im sorry  
**Steve** : It’s okay. Can I come and see you?  
**Me** : yes. yes now please  
  
\--  
  
“...Nat?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s me. I-”  
  
“Wait, I’ll put it on loudspeaker. Bucky’s here.”  
  
“Oh. Okay. Hi, Bucky.”  
  
“What’s going on? Have you found anything?”  
  
“Bucky, I’m so sorry. They’ve got some kind of...god, I don’t know. It’s like a firewall that keeps recoding, updating itself. Haven’t broken through one like that, or really even seen one.”  
  
“Could Tony?”  
  
“JARVIS can’t, he can barely see it.”  
  
“...nothing? Nothing can be done?”  
  
“Bucky, I...no. No, I’m sorry. I’ll keep trying-”  
  
“Bucky? Bucky! Buck- sorry, Nat, I’ve got to go.”  
  
“Sure, Steve, I-”  
  
\--  
  
_Monday, 9.01am_  
“Hello, Lerna Labs?”  
  
“My name is James Barnes, you took my sister in on Friday, Rebecca Barnes. What happened!?”  
  
“Oh! Mr Barnes. I’m sorry, have you not been contacted?”  
  
“No! No, I haven’t, I’ve heard nothing from anyone since I saw Dr Friedrick on Friday!”  
  
“I’m very sorry for that. Let me just page the doctor, see if I can get you an update.”  
  
“Please.”  
  
“I’ll place you on hold. One moment.”  
  
_Monday, 10.29am_  
“I’m sorry, but your call has timed out. Please try again later.”  
  
_Monday, 1.46pm_  
“Hello?”  
  
“Mr Barnes? It’s Doctor Friedrick.”  
  
“Fucking finally! What’s happened?”  
  
“I’m sorry for the lack of contact, Mr Barnes, it was touch and go from the moment we touched down and-”  
  
“What. Happened. With. My. Sister.”  
  
“...I’m sorry, Mr Barnes. She suffered an attack mid-transit. We got her into surgery as soon as possible, but-”  
  
“No.”  
  
“She’d deteriorated too much. The procedure didn’t take. I’m so sorry, James. Rebecca died late Sunday night.”  
  
\--  
  
The phone fell from Bucky’s hand.  
  
His entire body followed a moment later.  
  
\--  
  
“Mr Barnes? James? Are you? There?”  
  
Nothing from the other end.  
  
Sophie hung up. “Thank fuck for that.” She tossed the phone onto the bench, and crossed the room back to the observation window. “How’s it looking?”  
  
Jesse had been monitoring the subject since that morning, and gave Sophie a thumbs up. “Muscle growth is insanely good. Full repair on internals has already nearly completed. With the conditioning, we’re seeing great results. Recalls less and less. Couldn’t even remember her name earlier. She’s going to go through the chair twice more while they work on the trigger words.”  
  
“Beautiful. We’ll be able to give a glowing report to Pierce.”  
  
“Oh, Supreme Commander’s coming in?” Jesse joked. Sophie smacked the back of his head.  
  
“God, you’re annoying,” she said fondly.  
  
They passed a few moments in silence, Sophie staring at the woman in the small room. She sat on the only chair in the room, brown hair hanging limply around her head, grey eyes confused but not scared. A definite improvement.  
  
“You know, if the new serum worked that well with that sickly little thing, imagine how good it would be with someone stronger,” Jesse said, thoughtfully.  
  
Sophie frowned at him. “Getting greedy?”  
  
Jesse shrugged. “Always worth having a back up. Avoid another fuck up like the Vietnam War.”  
  
Sophie tapped her chin. “The brother. Army vet, sniper with a great deal of confirmed kills. Mentally unstable, perfect chance for conditioning,” she murmured, half to herself.  
  
Jesse grinned at her. “Something to think about.”  
  
Sophie tilted her head. “Hmm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you know, in Greek mythology, Lerna and Echidna were the parents of Hydra?  
> huh. funny.
> 
> everything has a beginning...


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...but we fear the end.

# 25

Steve picked up Ida from the airport on New Year’s Eve.  
  
She greeted him with a warm hug, but they exchanged no greetings or news. The entire drive to Bucky’s apartment was silent. Once they parked, Steve carried her bag up, and left it in the spare room, while Ida went to Bucky’s. Steve could hear soft sobbing, and his heart clenched.  
  
His fault. Entirely, his fucking fault.  
  
He allowed himself a few moments to clench his jaw, curl his body inwards, and then he forcibly straightened, and headed into the kitchen. A good meal, something substantial. Becca’s memorial was tomorrow, both Bucky and Ida could use a good meal before hand. It was never easy letting someone go, never mind someone as important as Becca.  
  
Fuck, Steve thought, cold running through his body like he was back in the Arctic, Becca. Becca was the only other family they had left, all the others-  
  
There was a loud shattering noise, and Steve winced, looking down to see that he’d clenched too tight on a ceramic pot, and the thing had cracked in his hands, the rest shattering on the floor. Fuck.  
  
“Steve!?” Came Bucky’s voice, and Steve hunched over, guilt making him sick.  
  
“I’m okay! Dropped a pot,” he said, trying to reassure Bucky, but his boyfriend appeared in the kitchen doorway nontheless, eyes red and puffy, skin pale. The dark circles were a permanent feature now, and Steve could hardly bear to look at him.  
  
“Okay. We’ll just clean it up, yeah?” Bucky said, already digging under the sink to grab the dustpan and brush. Steve gently grabbed his elbow, and pulled him back towards the doorway.  
  
“Buck, you don’t have to-” Steve started, but Bucky spun around, fixing Steve with a look.  
  
“I haven’t seen you in days, despite you being physically here, and now you’re accidentally smashing crockery. I do have to,” Bucky said, and Steve saw tears brim in his eyes, at the same time they stung in Steve’s. Steve looked away, taking over where Bucky left off, retrieving the dustpan, wincing when his grip cracked the plastic. “Steve. Steve, stop.” Steve did, hunched over on the floor. Bucky’s hand gently took the dustpan from him, and replaced it in Steve’s grip with his own. “I know what you’re doing,” Bucky said quietly, and Steve screwed his eyes shut.  
  
“I’m not doing anything,” Steve said. Lying.  
  
“No, you are. I know because I did it too. Someone else is hurting worse than me so I’m going to pretend I’m fine, right?”  
  
“But you are!” Steve said, anguished, feeling the pain in his heart. He looked at Bucky, and saw tears falling steadily from his eyes, but he still looked so determined, and Steve loved him so much.  
  
“I’m hurting the same way that everyone else who knew Be- her, everyone who knew her is. Including you.”  
  
“Bucky, she’s your sister,” Steve said, and Bucky nodded, jaw tightening against a sob. Steve made to pull away but Bucky didn’t let go, and instead pulled him closer by their joined hands. Steve went, easily, leaning into Bucky, hating himself for taking comfort from him. “I’m sorry,” he said, mostly muffled by Bucky’s shoulder.  
  
Bucky’s hand tightened on his. “Fuck, Steve, I miss her,” he said, voice shaking with grief, and Steve wrapped his free arm around Bucky, holding him tightly, and leaned them both against the kitchen cupboards. “I miss her so fucking much, I feel like she’s been gone five minutes and ten years. I just- I arranged so much around her, and now there’s gonna be a gap, no matter what and- god!” The last word sounded forced out, pained and raw.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’ve been in my own head, I should’ve been there for-” Steve started, but Bucky cut him off, pressing his lips to Steve’s in a barely-there kiss.  
  
“I just need you with me. I just need you,” Bucky mumbled, and Steve curled further around him.  
  
“I’m here, I’m here, Buck.”  
  
\--  
  
The memorial took place on a grey day, snow just beginning to fall from the sky. Everything about it was muted, fuzzy, like Bucky was seeing everything from far away, still blinking his eyes clear. People, his loved ones, his friends, well-wishers from the hospital, all of them came up to offer condolences, and Bucky answered perfunctorily, automatically. The whole day he was on autopilot, the only thing keep him upright being Ida and Steve taking it in turns to stand beside him, hand on his back.  
  
“She was so brave.”  
  
“She fought to the last.”  
  
“She seemed so invincible, right?”  
  
“She’s resting now.”  
  
Bucky excused himself two hours in, and threw up the breakfast he barely tasted.  
  
\--  
  
**JANUARY** :  
  
Steve propped the shield in its bag against the wall, and left the duffle with his uniform next to it. “Buck? I’m home!” He called out. No response.  
  
Frowning, he tried to listen harder, like he could control his super-hearing. Nothing...maybe the soft click of someone typing on a phone?  
  
His phone chimed, confirming it.  
  
Bucky: on the balcony.  
  
Steve crossed the room, following that simple direction. It was freezing outside, even to Steve, with his body temperature high and in a heavy coat. Bucky was suitably rugged up, but didn’t seem to even register how cold it was.  
  
“Hey,” Steve said softly, sitting beside him. He wrapped an arm around Bucky, who leaned into it, almost automatically. He was doing a lot of things like that of late, like he’d forgotten how to make decisions in the moment. Steve tightened his hold, but let the silence lie, trying to just keep Bucky warm, help him feel less alone.  
  
“When-” Bucky said after a long while, his voice raspy. Steve turned to look at him. Bucky rubbed a finger on his chapped lips. “When does it stop?” He asked finally. He looked guilty for a split second, before that blankness took over again.  
  
Steve’s heart clenched.  
  
He kissed the top of Bucky’s head, trying to figure out what to say. Honesty might be too blunt, while its too fresh, but Steve had never been one to offer false platitudes.  
  
“It doesn’t,” he said finally, mostly into Bucky’s hair, but pulled back so he could look at his face. “But you do learn to live with it. It gets less sharp, less present, and the happier times don’t hurt as much.”  
  
“When does that happen?” Bucky asked, eyes still fixed forward.  
  
“When you’re ready to let it. No one grieves the same, Buck.”  
  
Bucky said nothing else to that, but turned into Steve, tucking his face into his shoulder. Steve wrapped his other arm around him, pulling him close.  
  
It did seem like that was going to be the last of that conversation, as Bucky didn’t bring it up for another week, until one day, while Steve was sitting on the couch, sketching, and Bucky was still sleeping, or at least so Steve thought.  
  
That was until he heard Bucky stumble and get up, the door opening almost violently. Steve shot to his feet, sketchbook abandoned in favour of rushing to him. “What’s the date?” Bucky asked, eyes huge.  
  
Steve checked his phone. “28th? Why?”  
  
Bucky’s hand clenched. He went back into the bedroom, Steve looking after him hopelessly.  
  
It wasn’t until later that Steve found out it was Becca’s birthday.  
  
\--  
  
It felt like losing her all over again.  
  
\--  
  
**FEBRUARY:**  
  
Bucky sat next to Steve on the bed. Steve still had a livid bruise from his neck down to the bottom of his ribs from whatever mission SHIELD had sent him on. What he was allowed to say was getting smaller and smaller every day, and Bucky was so angry on Steve’s behalf, watching him chafe under secrets and lies.  
  
“It’s worth it, the work is worth it,” he’d said. Bucky didn’t doubt he believed that, but found it hard to be sympathetic to the organisation making his boyfriend hold back vital parts of himself.  
  
And then there was this long, dark bruise, not healed after hours of sleep. Meaning it was something worse. Meaning Steve was throwing himself at things that even his super-soldier body could not handle.  
  
It was when he’d traced down the length of it, fingers light and face pulled tight with barely restrained anger, that he noticed Steve looking at him. He stopped running his hand over it, letting his palm splay over the worst of it. Steve brought a hand up, and threaded his fingers through Bucky’s.  
  
“I’m all right, Buck,” he said softly, voice a little thick with sleep.  
  
“When does this stop?” Bucky replied.  
  
Steve frowned. He clearly recognised Bucky rephrasing his question from over a month ago.  
  
“It’ll heal,” he said.  
  
“And when it doesn’t?” Bucky met Steve’s eyes.  
  
“It has so far.”  
  
“So you’re going to push until something breaks?” Bucky said, some of that repressed anger leaking out.  
  
Steve’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t pull his hand from Bucky’s. “This is what I was made for, Buck.”  
  
“You don’t owe the world anything more than what you’ve already given!”  
  
“So, what, I do nothing? Take Erskine’s gift and sit on my ass?”  
  
“Fighting in World-War-Fucking-Two wasn’t enough?”  
  
“One tour in Afghanistan wasn’t enough?” Steve shot back, and immediately went pale. Bucky felt the words make an impact somewhere near his sternum, bleeding pain into his heart, but didn’t let it reach him.  
  
“I joined the Army to make sure I could keep my sister comfortable. That she could stay in hospital,” Bucky started, and Steve shrank inside himself.  
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”  
  
Bucky couldn’t hear it right then. “Your reasons for joining up were mired in propaganda of the time. Don’t you dare deny it, you’ve said the exact same thing. You were ready to be experimented on for that war, you died for it. So look at me, right now, Steve, and tell me that you haven’t given enough for a cause that you didn’t even fully understand.”  
  
Steve didn’t look up at him. Bucky squeezed his hand.  
  
“What’s keeping you from stopping? Putting the shield down?” He asked, and made sure his voice was gentle this time, even as he was nearly vibrating with rage.  
  
Steve visibly struggled with an answer for a long moment, eventually just turning dead looking blue eyes on Bucky. Bucky let go of Steve’s hand to prop himself up, so he could lean down and kiss his temple.  
  
“What’re you still grieving, Stevie?” He asked, and Steve curled up underneath him, one hand squeezing Bucky’s hip, only just not hard enough to bruise.  
  
\--  
  
**MARCH:**  
  
Steve flipped through the file, seeing the faces of the SHIELD agents supposedly making up Alpha Strike. Distantly, he noticed they were all men, except for Natasha, which did make something stir uncomfortably in his gut.  
  
“We think you’d be the perfect fit. The missions would be black-ops, but nothing undercover, nothing off books. Stealth missions,” Hill was saying, while Steve peered at Brock Rumlow’s history, his service, and found nothing lacking in it. He was, at face value, a perfectly good agent.  
  
Why did everything about this make him feel sick?  
  
“Would this interfere with my work with the Avengers?” Steve asked, putting the files back, closing the folder.  
  
“We would expect you to move to DC, close to the Triskelion. Other than that, no. We still expect the Avengers to remain the force we want it to be,” Fury said, staring at Steve like he could see right through him. Or like he was a bug pinned to a board.  
  
Steve’s gut churned uncomfortably. “And the importance of my proximity to the Triskelion is?” He asked.  
  
“Merely that we’d have you close by, ready for missions,” Fury said.  
  
“So I would be needed with greater frequency.”  
  
“We’d expect to use your skills more often, Captain, yes,” Hill said.  
  
Steve’s hands curled over the lip of the table. “And would I be allowed to think about it?”  
  
“What is there to think about, Rogers?” Fury asked.  
  
Steve forced himself not to clench his hands on the table, not wanting to leave two imprints of his anger, panic, and fear on the edge. “Maybe I don’t particularly see myself as a SHIELD agent,”  
  
“Considering the amount of work you’ve done for us this last year, Captain, I’m surprised that you don’t,” Fury said.  
  
Steve had to concede that point there. He said nothing in reply, merely nodded and left.  
  
He really didn’t have an argument against that.  
  
\--  
  
When he got back up to his floor of the Tower, Bucky greeted him with a very guilty look, that had Steve’s heart throwing itself down near his feet.  
  
At least, until, Bucky spoke. “I...may have found my birthday present,” he said, smiling apologetically.  
  
Steve sighed, gusting disappointment. “Buck! I wasn’t even sure I was going to give that to you,” he griped, heading into his bedroom, where indeed, his cupboard door was open, the canvas just sticking out.  
  
“I didn’t see the whole thing! I just saw- well. I did see it, and then I saw a little bit of what you wrote on the back and I put it away as quickly as I could,” Bucky said, coming up behind Steve to wrap his arm around his waist.  
  
Steve sighed again, and lent his head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. “Now I’m going to have to get you something else.”  
  
“No! No, Steve, you don’t have to get me anything. And besides-”  
  
“I just thought it might be too soon, or that it might still hurt, I hadn’t decided-”  
  
“Steve. Baby, I love it.” Steve turned around to face him, and saw a small, gentle smile on his face. “I’ve just- I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, about the hurt not stopping, and you’re right.” Steve cupped Bucky’s face between his hands, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones. “I’m always gonna miss her, and I don’t think I’ll ever accept that she’s gone, but she would absolutely kick my ass if her memory was stopping me from living. She would absolutely destroy me if I kept using my grief as a reason to hide myself away.”  
  
“I think she’d understand, to a point,” Steve tried to defend Bucky, who snorted.  
  
“She would be appalled that we haven’t had sex in three months,” he deadpanned, and Steve couldn’t help the shocked laugh. “Steve, if that’s what you give me on Sunday, I promise to at least act surprised.”  
  
Steve kissed him, feeling both their lips smile against each other, and they broke apart just enough so Steve could wrap his arms around Bucky, burrowing his face in his neck. “I’m really glad you like it,” he murmured.  
  
“It’s going on the living room wall, I’m replacing that ugly fucking landscape.”  
  
"I was terrified for a second that you were going to put it in the bedroom."  
  
Bucky made a disgusted noise so violent, Steve started giggling helplessly.  
  
\--  
  
“So what did Fury want? If you can talk about it,” Bucky asked later, much later, when they were naked and coiled around each other.  
  
Steve sighed, and rolled over onto his back. “They want me to join SHIELD in a more...permanent situation.”  
  
“How is that different to what you do now?”  
  
“I’d be leading a team. From DC.”  
  
“Not from New York?”  
  
“No. He wants me in DC, ready to go at a moment’s notice.”  
  
“Oh.” Bucky rolled onto his back as well, and Steve missed the weight of his arm over his stomach. “Is that what you want?”  
  
Steve turned his head to meet Bucky’s eyes, and saw none of the anger he’d seen a month ago, after that particularly bad mission. Bucky was really just trying to help him figure this out. Steve smiled at his boyfriend, the love of his life. His partner.  
  
“I don’t know what I want, beyond you,” he said, which was as honest an answer as he could give.  
  
Bucky, to Steve’s relief, rolled back half on top of him, throwing his arm across Steve. Steve gathered him up and close as he could, and pressed his face into his hair.  
  
“What makes you happy? And don’t say me, that’s a given. I’m a delight.”  
  
Steve laughed, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “Okay. Uhhh,” he started, turning his face to the side as he thought. “Art. I like figuring out what mediums I like best. Been thinking about trying clay.”  
  
“Good start. We can build on that, get you an Instagram. Hell, an Etsy. Who wouldn’t want a Steve Rogers original?”  
  
Steve bit down on his lip, closing his eyes blissfully. “Steve Rogers original, huh?”  
  
“Your sketchbooks are literally in museums, Steve. Why not have a few pieces in a gallery?” Steve mulled that over, finding the idea exciting. He’d loved the idea of seeing his work in the Met, back in the day. “Okay, so we’ve got art. What else?”  
  
Steve drummed his fingers on Bucky’s spine. “I feel like I don’t get out to protests enough anymore.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Bucky said, shooting up right to fix Steve with a delighted look. “Oh my god, Steve.”  
  
“Yes?” Steve said, frowning and slightly worried.  
  
“Not only should we go to protests, you should, and this is the only time I will ever say this, do it in uniform.”  
  
Steve stared at Bucky’s huge, nearly deranged grin, and couldn’t help one of his own.  
  
“Honey. Let’s start a fucking riot.”  
  
Bucky laughed delightedly, and Steve pulled him back into his arms.  
  
\--  
  
“What if I retired?” Words whispered in the dark were easier to stand.  
  
“What if, indeed?” Bucky’s reply was as soft.  
  
“I’d have to start living.”  
  
“Everyone’s gotta start somewhere, baby. Why not now?”  
  
\--  
  
**APRIL:**  
  
“...word out of the embassy says it was a lone gunman, though no one seems to be able to give them any kind of memorable description, beyond an all black outfit, and no terrorist outfit seems to claim them...”  
  
“...fire burned for three days, obliterating any usable evidence. As per previous attacks by this supposed ‘ghost’, no one has stepped forward to claim their actions, and there is still no firm description of whoever they are...”  
  
“...fourteen dead...”  
  
“...found dead in a supposedly impenetrable room...”  
  
“...one ex-CIA operative attributing the attacks to the near-mythical Winter Soldier...”  
  
“...just who is the Winter Soldier, and how are they still active after 65 years...”  
  
“...left with just one question: if it is the work of the Winter Soldier, how can any one stop them?”  
  
\--  
  
MAY:  
  
The weather turned mild and breezy in the last week of the month, and the early afternoon found Bucky padding out into the living room, Steve having finally returned from a last minute trip to DC. He was slumped on the couch, one hand massaging his temples, looking his birth date age.  
  
Bucky took the opportunity to clamber over him, seat himself on his lap and wrap his arm around Steve’s shoulders. Steve’s hand left his face, his expression softening upon seeing Bucky (honestly the biggest ego boost), and he wrapped his hands around Bucky’s hips.  
  
Bucky leaned forward to kiss him, gently, closed mouth, and felt a little more tension leave Steve. When he pulled back, he pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and whispered, “Happy one year anniversary.”  
  
Steve gasped, and Bucky laughed at how delighted he looked. “Really?” Steve’s voice was breathlessly happy.  
  
“Yeah, baby. One year ago we had our first date.”  
  
Steve’s grin was entirely too adorable. Bucky had to immediately kiss it off him. “What do we do? To celebrate? Is there something we have to-” Steve started, and Bucky kissed him, yet again, if only to stop Steve’s excited-yet-nervous rambling.  
  
“We don’t have to do anything. But I thought it might be nice to go back to that restaurant? Make things come full circle.” Steve looked him completely fondly. And then laughed when Bucky followed up with, “And then you can make me come later.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Steve managed to get out between giggles.  
  
“God, you’re adorable. How the fuck did you get his cute?” Bucky grumbled, kissing up Steve’s neck.  
  
“Super serum.”  
  
“Fuck you, Rogers.”  
  
“...well, I mean, I’m game if you are?”  
  
Bucky sat back to stare at him. Steve had a bright, beautiful blush across his cheeks, but a very determined look in his eye. A look that said ‘Your Move, Barnes.’  
  
Bucky stared at him a bit longer, and then clambered off Steve’s lap, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the bedroom.  
  
\--  
  
Is there actually a more beautiful sight than Steve Rogers arching above him, head thrown back, golden hair soft and wild, lips parting in ecstasy?  
  
\--  
  
Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders as they headed up the street, night settling over Brooklyn. Bucky still had a glazed look in his eyes that made Steve laugh every time he saw it, and make a bloom of pride in his chest, knowing that he was the reason for it.  
  
“You’re lucky that I got out of bed at all,” Bucky said as Steve kissed his temple.  
  
“Right back at you,” Steve murmured into his ear, laughing at the groan Bucky let out. “Sorry, I’ll stop trying to seduce you in public.”  
  
“I didn’t say that,” Bucky said evasively, and Steve grinned into his ear.  
  
Then a gunshot split the silent night.  
  
Steve grabbed Bucky immediately, covering his body with his own, rushing them both against the side of the nearest building, familiar battle-adrenaline settling in his blood.  
  
“What the fuck!?” Bucky was shouting, but Steve just kept him between Steve and the street, and scanned it for where the shot came from. It was hard to track anything, with civilians screaming and running (go faster, go faster, I can’t protect you all), but then another shot rang out, and the crowd parted just enough and there-  
  
A person, dressed in all black, everything but their hair covered.  
  
“That- that’s-” Bucky said, and Steve made sure he was behind him as he stepped out.  
  
“Stay behind me, Buck.”  
  
“Steve-”  
  
“Bucky. Stay behind me.”  
  
Bucky didn’t argue, but Steve felt his hand press into the small of Steve’s back.  
  
The masked person- supposedly, the Winter Soldier- saw them, and stopped moving. They stood in the centre of the street, ignoring or oblivious to the chaos that spread around them. Were they waiting for Steve to move? For back up? Supposedly they were a ghost, there and gone. Here, they stood in plain sight, being recorded by any camera on the street.  
  
This was an endgame, for whatever plan they had put in motion.  
  
Steve felt Bucky’s hand slip into his pocket. “Who’s closest?” He whispered, and Steve was suddenly, overwhelmingly in owe of Bucky’s calm control.  
  
“Tony will get here quickest,” Steve answered, and heard Bucky tap out a text.  
  
Then, as if that was the cue for them to move, the Soldier charged forward, as fast as Steve himself could run. “Bucky, run!” Steve ordered, and met the Soldier at a run himself, tackling them before they could get any closer. The Soldier recovered quickly, sliding through Steve’s grip, wrapping a leg around Steve’s and tripping him. Steve rolled, getting back onto his feet in one fluid movement (thank you, Nat), and grabbed the Soldier, tugging them back towards him, levelling a punch to their masked faced.  
  
Their head snapped back, but they recovered quickly, again, spinning to aim a kick at Steve’s stomach. Steve reached down to block it, feeling how hard the force of it rattled his bones. The Soldier was definitely enhanced, and the idea of that made Steve’s blood run cold.  
  
Steve turned that fear into power behind his next kick, and the way the Soldier stumbled back after dodging from it made Steve hope for one moment that he had the upper hand, until he realised that the stumble was a cover for them to unsheathe a knife from a thigh holster (how did he miss that!?), and Steve braced himself to dodge it.  
  
The Soldier threw the knife- away from Steve, at a civilian, running up the street. The knife thudded into their leg, and it wasn’t until Steve heard the pained yell, that he realised who it was.  
  
“BUCKY!”  
  
The Soldier was moving towards Bucky as soon as the knife hit him, and Steve, even as fast as he could run, could not get to him before they did. The Soldier grabbed Bucky’s neck, and hauled him onto his feet, Bucky’s face screwed up in a pained grimace, and pointed a gun at his head.  
  
Steve stopped moving, freezing. He could feel every beat of his heart in his fingers, terror flooding through his body worse than he’d ever felt before.  
  
“You don’t want him, you want me,” Steve managed to get out, his voice only wavering slightly. “Let him go.”  
  
The Soldier didn’t move. The gun aimed at Bucky’s head was perfectly steady. Bucky winced, and Steve saw his hand go to the dagger in his thigh.  
  
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tony. Hurry.  
  
“Let him go, Soldier. He’s not the one you want,” Steve said again, and saw the tiniest flinch when Steve said ‘soldier’. Okay, okay, wrong thing to call them, don’t antagonise them, Bucky is all that matters, Bucky, _Bucky_ -  
  
Bucky, who’s hand had grasped the handle of the dagger, and somehow without alerting the Soldier, had begun to pull it from his leg. No, no, what is he doing? If it hit anything vital, he’d-  
  
Terror thrashed through Steve’s head, and then he saw the way Bucky held the dagger, positioned to thrust back into the Soldier. He met Steve’s eyes, looking scared, and determined. He wasn’t asking permission.  
  
It could kill him. The Solider could fire on him, in pain or in retaliation.  
  
But Steve was close enough, he could stop that. Bucky just needed a moment.  
  
Steve tried to send that through his look, that he was ready, and Bucky’s mouth twitched slightly.  
  
“Hey! Soldier!” Steve said, and the Soldier’s hold on the gun flinched just enough away from Bucky’s head-  
  
Bucky plunged the knife back-  
  
And the Soldier made a low, pained noise-  
  
And then Steve was on them, pushing them to the ground. “Bucky, go!” He yelled, and punched the Soldier hard enough to crack the mask.  
  
“STEVE!” Bucky screamed, and Steve looked up, in time to see more black clad people descend on Bucky, dragging him towards a van.  
  
“BUCKY!” Steve screamed, and made to stand, but an iron grip around his wrist stopped him, and before he look down at it, the Soldier punched him just as hard as he did them. He fell back, his head hitting the tarmac with a sickening crack.  
  
“You were never my target,” the Soldier said, looming over Steve, before disappearing.  
  
Their voice was low, raspy, and familiar, in a way that Steve couldn’t get his mind around. Everything felt grey and tasted like copper, and as much as he wanted to lie there, until his world stopped spinning, his entire body thrummed with disgust at himself, fury at his failure, desperation that he’d let himself be distracted enough to let him go-  
  
He struggled upright, forcing himself to, hanging onto those swelling emotions and the last dregs of adrenaline, and saw a red-gold blur land in front of him, holding his familiar shield.  
  
“You look like shit,” Tony said, handing over Steve’s weapon.  
  
Steve slid it onto his arm, hand clenching around the leather straps.  
  
“Can you track them?” He asked.  
  
“We’re not letting them get away, Steve. JARVIS’s got satellites pointed at the city. They’d have to have something truly unbelievable to get past him.”  
  
Tony words weren’t reassuring, but Steve nodded.  
  
“Get me to him,” he ordered.  
  
\--  
  
The van wasn’t outside the warehouse, but the doors were open. Steve stepped out of Tony’s grip, storming his way into the building, rage building in his blood. It felt familiar and terrible all at once, but he’d do worse than indulge it if it meant Bucky safe.  
  
They should’ve stayed in bed.  
  
“Sir. I’m not detecting anyone inside the building,” JARVIS said, Tony projecting it so Steve could hear.  
  
Steve’s insides went cold. “You said they were here,” he said, turning to glare at Tony, as a placeholder. Anger turned to fear, turned to rage, turned to blind terror-  
  
“I tracked them to this building, Captain, but it seems they’ve already left.”  
  
“How is that possible? We were right behind them!” Tony asked.  
  
“I’m not sure, sir. Perhaps they are somehow blocking my connection to the building?”  
  
“Then I guess we keep going in, see if you can pick up anything from the suit sensors,” Tony said, sounding confident, and Steve tried to take comfort in that, but it seemed nothing was going to break through the blood-red haze.  
  
JARVIS wasn’t wrong. Every room they went through was empty, until they entered one last one, with a projector pointed at a blank wall.  
  
“JARVIS, what am I looking at?” Tony asked, as Steve stalked over to the projector, staring it down like it was a loaded bomb.  
  
“I’m unsure, it seems to just be a - Sir, transmission incoming,” JARVIS said, and then the projector turned on, Steve moving to the side to watch what showed up on the wall.  
  
His shield, flashed up, once, twice, then a third time, with big, bold words splashed over it.  
  
**YOUR FAULT.**  
  
Then, a cut, and-  
  
“Bucky-” Steve gasped, as the projector cut to him, awake, eyes wide and afraid, but he could see the words he was shouting at his captors were full of spite. He wasn’t letting them see how scared he was.  
  
Steve didn’t have the same luxury, his body shaking with uselessness.  
  
“JARVIS, where’s this coming from?”  
  
“Tracking it as best I can, sir.”  
  
**YOUR FAULT** flashed across the screen once more.  
  
The Soldier stood behind Bucky, one hand on his neck.  
  
Bucky’s mouth stopping moving, and his eyes widened, and then he flinched, trying to look behind him. He looked terrified, but above that, furious, like they’d said something that blew past fear and right into rage, like Steve felt, like there was something worse than a hand around Bucky’s throat-  
  
Steve didn’t even see the gun until red splattered across the screen.  
  
\--  
  
His throat hurt. Why did his throat hurt?  
  
Who was screaming?  
  
\--  
  
Bucky tried to force Becca to let go, tried to pry her hand off.  
  
“Becca, Becs, Becs, it’s me, it’s Bucky-” he forced out. Becca’s grey eyes looked down at him impassively.  
  
“She doesn’t know that name anymore, Mr Barnes,” said a voice, and Bucky turned his ire in that direction instead.  
  
“I FUCKING HOPE YOUR GODDAMN WILL IS IN ORDER, ASSHOLES, BECAUSE ONCE STEVE GETS HERE YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD!” He bellowed, and heard a laugh in return.  
  
“I’m afraid we’ve fed the Captain a small bit of misinformation. Enough to...dissuade him from interrupting. At least until we’re ready.”  
  
Bucky’s body went cold, and he tightened his grip on Becca’s hand.  
  
“You see, a long time ago, the Captain cut off one head.”  
  
“Soldier, bring him,” said another voice, this one coming from a man by the door. Becca lifted Bucky with ease, dragging him towards the door.  
  
“Consider this us growing two more.”  
  
In the next room was a chair.  
  
The door swung shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Christ. Here we are, end of the story!
> 
> I'm so sorry it's a cliffhanger, and also that it took so long to come out, but I'm afraid I haven't got a lot of good news to give you guys, and I'm genuinely so so so sorry. 
> 
> While I'm very proud of this story, and the fact that its my first ever finished project, truth be told, I'm incredibly burnt out by it at this stage. I do have plans in place for everything that follows, two whole stories in fact, but I can't give you any kind of timeline for when they come out, or even confirmation that they will come out at all. And oh my god, I know that's a HORRIBLE place to leave things, but until I know if I want to carry on, that is unfortunately just going to have to be it for now. 
> 
> I'm not going to falsely promise anything to you, that this is just a hiatus or that I'm working on anything, because right now my main goal is to sit back and think about if I want to continue it at all. So instead of hyping up whatever might come next, I will instead say this: if I choose not to continue the story, I will post an update with what I had planned next, so that you all get some kind of closure anyway. Or I'll do an epilogue. I cannot tell you if/when it will happen, but know that I also HATE when people leave stories on endings like this one, and I won't leave you guys hanging for...oh, how long did this take? Two months? 
> 
> Huge, huuuuuge thank yous to all of you for reading, for coming back for each chapter, for commenting and loving this story. It's meant the world having people so excited to read the next parts, and I'm so grateful to each and every one of you. Another big thanks to Nabu and Em, the two artists behind the beautiful art, and to a couple IRL's for making me sit down and write even when I thought I couldn't.
> 
> I love you all so much. Thank you.  
> \- Tabs <3 xxxxxxxx


End file.
